Knee High Socks
by Midnight Auroua
Summary: There's a traitor in the mansion, warring telepaths, and a Hellfire Club after two X-Men. And what can Remy LeBeau focus on? Rogue's knee high socks, of all things. Honestly. The man had no priorities.
1. The Prologue

**Aw, I couldn't resist. I just had to post the first two chapters of Knee High Socks. But I have to tell you right now, I WILL NOT be able to update as quickly as I did with Story Time With Remy LeBeau. As much fun as that one was, this one will have a little more substance and romance and fluff and action and all that fun stuff. And because I want to offer you something good, it will take me longer to perfect the chapters with this story before I post them. But I'll try to update as frequently as often. Cross my heart and kiss my elbow. Until then, enjoy this little teaser of future chapters to come. I promise, chapter two will actually have some form of substance and less of...whatever is happening below. **

**But until then, I proudly present chapter one of Knee High Socks!**

**xxxxxxxx**

Remy looked at the legs that dangled off of the bed in front of him. They looked like they hadn't seen a moment of sunlight. He imagined them to be soft. They were the finally revealed forbidden skin. They were untouched. They were perfection, even now as they were scratched and bleeding just slightly. It was such a sharp contrast, the red blood against the white skin. He wondered how her skin would look against his, which was dark and tanned.

He decided he would find out.

Remy looked up into Rogue's green eyes. They looked tired when he had entered her room only moments before. They looked worn out and as if she would personally eviscerate the next person who interrupted her. Now they were dark and wide and expectant. He half wondered if she would permit him to touch her so intimately. He was surprised she even allowed him to pull off her battered, dirtied, torn knee high socks. But she had. And now those legs were bare.

Taunting him.

Well, never let it be said that Remy LeBeau sat back passively while being taunted.

So, from where he was kneeling in front of the foot of Rogue's bed, he touched her foot. They were as soft as he dreamed. With high, delicate arches. It pleased him to see she had painted her toe nails a bright, ruby red. Even though the paint was chipped, he hoped she was thinking of him when she painted them.

His hand slid up the length of her foot to her small ankles. Past the ankles to her toned calves. Up to her bruised, bleeding knees. The moment his skilled hands came in contact with her thighs, he heard Rogue's breath hitch. He looked up again, wondering if she was going to stop him before he went further.

She looked a little scared but there was no denying the desire in her emerald eyes. Which was good because Remy didn't want to stop. He had said it and he meant it: just because Rogue couldn't control her powers did not mean that he did not want to be with her. He would be with her no matter the circumstances.

That didn't mean that he wasn't thrilled in a way that could not be fathomed or described to be able to touch her. And, oh, he was touching her.

So his hands traveled upward to her thighs. Remy stood. Never breaking eye contact and never moving his hands from where they so happily rested, he leaned forward. Rogue scooted back further on her bed. He thought it was so she could put some distance between them but it only served to help him with his goal. Cause if she was seated farther back on the bed, it would be all that much easier to lie down.

He chuckled. What a silly girl.

As he continued to close the space between them, Rogue moved back until her back nearly thumped against the headboard. It was at this point, Remy placed his knee on the bed.

He moved forward.

She let him.

He crawled up the length of her body, his eyes hot on her flesh. Despite her obvious fear, Rogue was receptive to his close proximity. Already, her back was arching just slightly. He hadn't even touched her yet. Hadn't even closed the space between their bodies.

He couldn't wait to see what she would do when he did.

When he was level with her face, Remy LeBeau stared into Rogue's eyes. Despite the treasure that was her body, he felt so much love looking into those intense eyes. He so loved those eyes. If he had a choice, he would be happy to simply stare into her eyes. He wouldn't have to touch her if he could always have those eyes. He just wanted to be with her.

More than anything, he wanted to kiss her.

In fact, Remy LeBeau would do just that.

"Hey, Roguey," he whispered, grinning just slightly. He couldn't help himself.

She made a little noise. An odd mix between a growl and a moan.

"I would like to further discuss these enthrallin' little socks of yours," he murmured as his lips descended upon hers.

**xxxxx**

**Have I sparked your interest yet? If not, well poop. If sexy time with Remy LeBeau isn't enough for you, I'll just have to try harder. Still. I hope you enjoyed. Maybe you'll review...**

**Much love.**

**-M.A.**


	2. The Runaway

**It's chapter two! Yay!**

**xxxxxx**

That, Remy LeBeau decided, could have gone better.

He loosened the bowtie around his neck, finally glad to be rid of the godforsaken thing. He hadn't had a chance to remove it earlier, what with him running for his life and whatnot. But now, he had a chance to dress down a little. So he pulled off the bow tie and dropped it on the ground.

He idly wondered how much his suit cost. His family, being a family full of highly respected thieves, never went cheap. Especially in regards to appearance. Remy was most likely dressed in one of the finest suits a man could wear. And it may or may not have been paid for.

Now his silk bow tie was lying in the dirt at a gas station somewhere outside of Louisiana. The ground was dusty and already dirtying the fine piece of clothing. Bemusedly, he kicked it with his foot. Then stepped on it. Then, just to make sure he would never have to see the constricting thing ever again, Remy blew it up.

There. Problem solved.

He unbuttoned his white shirt until it showed what he decided was a flattering amount of chest. Remy LeBeau hated his finery. He just wished he were wearing his wife beater, jeans, and some combat boots. Still, he decided, he looked rather good in his fancy monkey suit. But then again, rarely did Remy LeBeau not look good.

Except for that time he got pink eye when he was seventeen. There was nothing about pink eye that was sexy. Especially when those black and red eyes were swollen and runny.

But that was a long time ago. Now Remy LeBeau was outside a gas station, leaning heavily against his motorcycle, running a hand through his windblown hair, and trying to determine what his next move would be. There were a lot of things to consider.

Where he would go, what the repercussions were for what he did, what he would eat, would he be hunted down, what he would eat, if he would see his family ever again, what he would eat, what would eat, where would he sleep tonight, where was he in the first place, and finally, what would he eat.

Remy decided that the first thing he should do would be to eat.

He lifted his oddly colored eyes to the gas station. It was small but it at least looked clean. There was probably food inside. And he needed more gas for his bike. He had about two hundred dollars on him, which would be enough to get him some food, gas, and a hotel room. The rest he could just steal.

As he swaggered inside the station, he made three lists. A list of things he needed. A list of needs he would buy. A list of things he would steal. He only listed the necessities. One of those necessities would be a new outfit. Boots, a shirt, and some jeans that flattered his behind.

What? The man worked his tush off (no pun intended) for the butt he was blessed with. There was no shame in being proud. Or wanting to show off a little.

Yes, yes. That's what Remy LeBeau would do.

But first food.

A bell jingled when he entered the little store. His first assessment was correct; despite its Podunk location and dusty earth around it, the store was clean. Remy liked that. It was also a little chilly. Normally, being from the south, he was not a fan of the cold. But since he had been on a motorcycle for only god knows how long, stuck in a suit under the blazing sun, he could appreciate the over use of the air conditioning.

"Howdy."

He turned. Behind the counter was a young blonde girl with freckles. She looked completely, utterly bored. He couldn't blame her. Poor thing. Stuck out in the middle of nowhere. So Remy smiled, tipping his head in her direction.

"_Bonjour_."

"How can Ah help ya, sir?"

"I'm not a sir." He let his smile grow. "And I jus' need a few supplies."

"Oh. Okay. Jus' lemme know if Ah can get ya _anythin'_," she drawled, her grin growing flirtatious.

"Will do."

He wandered to the back where the drinks were. He walked right past the beers and instead grabbed a grape soda. Smiling contentedly, he walked through the rest of the gas station and picked up anything that struck his fancy. He knew that he was wasting his precious finances on chocolate bars and potato chips, but Remy was _hungry_. He managed to restrain himself a little though.

He had hightailed it out of Louisiana so fast, he didn't even get a chance to grab his trench coat. The coat was equipped with more pockets than it looked like. He used those pockets to hide the things he didn't want to pay for. Now all Remy had were the restrictive pockets on his suit.

Stupid monkey suit.

He could only steal so much without having conspicuous, bulging pockets. So he dropped in a pack of gum, two chocolate bars, and a pair of cheap sunglasses. He usually liked that his shades be a little more high quality but his eyes were very sensitive to light. At this point he just needed something that'd get the job done. He then bought two sodas, some chips, more chocolate (Remy had a bit of a sweet tooth), and a plastic comb. He dropped his makeshift groceries onto the checkout counter.

The freckled blonde lifted an eyebrow. "Long trip?"

"You could say dat."

"Left in a rush?"

"You could definitely say dat."

She smiled a little as she began to scan his items. "So…where ya headed from here?"

That was a good question. "Not sure. Don' even know where I'm at right now."

"Mississippi. Few more miles and you'll be in Tennessee."

Remy found this bit of news interesting. "Guess I'm headin' north then."

"That's so cool."

He grinned at her incredibly flirty tone. But he didn't have time to linger. "Where's the nearest hotel?"

"Geez. Not for another fifty miles or so." She peeked up at him through her lashes. "But of course, if that's too far from here…ya could always crash at mah place. Ah got _plenty _of room."

Cute, he thought.

"As temptin' as an offer that is, Imma have to pass." Then, just so he didn't leave her ego too terribly bruised, he added, "Don' have time to linger wit' pretty things like you. You'll be too much of a distraction."

The blonde giggled and gave him his total. Remy paid for that and for the gas that would fill up his bike. Without a second look, he walked out the door.

XXXXXXX

Now that he thought about, Remy realized that he probably could have handled the situation a _little _better.

But he panicked. He took one look at Belladonna in her white lace dress and knew that he would never be able go through with hit. He never saw himself as the marrying type. When the Guilds approached him, stating that he would be marrying Bella to keep the peace between the warring guilds, Remy was not so pleased.

His father did a lot of threatening, explaining, and even a little bit of begging before his adoptive son reluctantly agreed to go through with it. Because he wanted peace.

That's what he got for being such a softie.

Now he was sitting in a hotel room, eating the last of his chocolate, and trying to figure out where to go from here. He already had a good idea.

He had been MIA for the whole Apocalypse incident due to strenuous wedding negotiations. But he had watched from his bedroom (which was being heavily guarded to make sure he didn't try to run away. _Again._) on the television. He felt so very horrible about not being there. He was the _only_ one who hadn't been there.

He watched the two toned haired girl save pretty much the whole entire world. Oddly enough, out of all the urges he had which included running as far away from Louisiana and Belladonna as possible, stealing something, punching something, blowing something up (an urge he often had), and eating some chocolate, more than anything, he just wanted to give the girl a hug. An old fashioned, Remy LeBeau bear hug.

She deserved one.

And he needed to make up for not being there when the whole world had pretty much gone to hell in a hand basket. And it wasn't like he could go back to New Orleans. Not unless he was feeling particularly suicidal, anyway. There wasn't much left for him there anymore. Besides his family and home.

But Remy figured that those things were irrelevant now. He knew what the consequences were even before he told the leader of both Guilds to shove their marriage contracts where the sun don't shine. He wouldn't dwell on that. Then he might be sad. No time for that. No, no, no. Remy LeBeau would just find a new home. Besides.

There was a girl in New York who had his lucky card.

**xxxxxx**

**Not much to say. I just hope y'all are liking it thus far. Reviews will help. They are my motivation. So until then, much love.**

**-M.A.**


	3. The Stalkers

**I'm back!**

**Man oh man, when you guys you review, you review. I can't thank you enough for your wonderful comments. I usually take time to thank you individually but this is just too much. So thank all of you. 'Specially Chellerbell, Indy, BlueFox, and Ace. You guys are so consistent and wonderful and loyal. So, here is my gift to you. Chapter three.**

**Oh. And for those of you who were wondering... This is kind of a spin off to the oneshot Teetering. Inspired by that one line at the very end. A story that was born off of a few moments in my other oneshots. And thus, Knee High Socks was born...**

**XXXX**

Grocery shopping.

Rogue was a super hero. She had a cool leather uniform. She got to fly in a jet. She often jumped out of a jet. She had traveled all over the world. She had taken down villains that would make any normal person quake in their shoes. She had a power that frightened her fellow mutants. She could kick an ass five different ways on a good day. On a bad day, a villain didn't stand a chance against the Goth. She was exposed to an array of different people and cultures. She could speak French and was learning Spanish. She lived in a mansion.

One would think that as a superhero, she wouldn't have to worry about trivial things such as grocery shopping. But, even as an X-Man, she needed toilet paper and other necessary items for herself. This is how Rogue, a superhero, found herself pushing a shopping cart through a Wal-Mart on a lazy, uneventful Friday.

The glamorous life of an X-Man.

Apathetically, she trudged through the aisles of the super store, looking for anything that she may need. Rogue was not a girl who made lists. There just came a time when she realized she was in desperate need of an array of items and she hopped on her motorcycle to restock. Currently, she was trying to choose what kind of shampoo she wanted. Next to her, a goateed man with a shirt with Edward Cullen on it was seriously considering the apple scented shampoo that guaranteed voluptuous hair.

She shuddered, hating the necessity of Wal-Mart. She just wished they sold horse blinders.

Picking up some shampoo that satisfied her basic hair needs, Rogue set it into her shopping cart. Her eyes widened then scanned the potpourri of groceries in her shopping cart. Not two aisles ago, she had dropped some deodorant into her cart. Now it was gone. Her brows pulled together.

This was the third time something like this had happened to her during her shopping adventure. Throughout the day, she would pick something up, look away, look back down only to discover it was gone. At first she thought it was just her imagination.

But now it was just getting plain weird.

Trying to not look like a total freak (not a hard thing to do in a Wal-Mart in New York), Rogue scanned the aisles for someone or something suspicious. All she saw was the Edward Cullen guy, who was now considering peach blossom shampoo. She shook her head, glancing back down at her cart.

The deodorant had returned.

"What the hell?" she said aloud.

Edward Cullen guy turned to her and nodded. "Indeed."

"Uh…."

"I know exactly how you feel."

"Uh…yeah."

She decided now would be the time to move on before he decided to strike up a conversation. Keeping her eyes dead forward, Rogue continued her shopping quest. This time, however, she was more conscious of her surroundings.

Someone was up to something.

She wandered over to the clothing section. There wasn't anything that interested her, but she needed to buy socks. In a mansion full of teenagers who would inadvertently do laundry on the same days, Rogue went through socks freakishly fast. They were often stolen. Whether this was an accident or very weirdly intentional, she chose not to think about it. All that mattered was that she needed socks.

Lots and lots of socks at discount prices.

And as a superhero, there were several different socks Rogue needed. Everyday socks. Going into battle socks. Comfy socks. Bedtime socks. Ankle socks. Thigh high socks. Knee high socks. Men's socks. Winter socks (because she never knew when a mission would take her somewhere cold), socks that let her feet breathe, socks that kept in the warmth, tube socks, and plain old white socks.

She had no intention of buying all of those. What she really wanted were just some socks to sleep in. She considered her options for a very long moment before she finally grabbed a single pair of white knee high socks. She would sleep in these. They were soft and cotton and would get the job done.

She went to put the socks in with her other item when something caught her eye. This something was black, lacey, scandalous, and not at all like something Rogue ever even consider buying. She gasped, throwing the lacey bit of nothing out of the cart as if it would do her groceries harm. Before the lacey bit of nothing could touch the ground, two tanned fingers reached out and plucked it out the air.

It all made senses, at that moment. Rogue sighed.

"Dammit, Gambit," she growled, as the Cajun stepped fully into view.

He smiled and tipped his head in her direction. "_Bonjour_."

"I swear to god, if this meetin' ends with me bound and gagged on a train headed to only god knows where, I swear I will—"

Remy tsched at her, shaking his head. Rogue noted how his russet hair hooded his dark eyes, which were hidden behind a pair of cheap looking sunglasses. She thought Remy had better taste than that.

"Why do you jump to such harsh conclusions wit' Remy?" he asked innocently, fingering the lingerie he had snuck into Rogue's shopping cart.

"Gee, I don't know why I would ever be skeptical 'bout you?" she drawled sarcastically.

"Hey, you're the one that never gave me the chance to apologize for the whole kidnappin' fiasco."

"I don't want—"

"I'm sorry I lied to you, Rogue." He at least had the decency to look abashed. But then a playful smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "And for almost gettin' you eaten by some gatorrs. And for Julien firin' a bazooka at us. And for gettin' you dumped into a swamp. And for you havin' to meet my father. I' m real sorry 'bout that one. And I'm sorry for tyin' you up. And I'm sorry for—"

"Okay! I get it! You're sorry for the whole thing."

Remy shook his head, still idly toying with the undergarments in his hands. "_Non_. I didn' say that, now. I said I was sorry for all the bad stuff that happened to you and I said I was sorry for lyin' to you." He grinned rakishly. "But I'm not sorry I did all that wit' you."

She scowled, hoping to hide her genuine surprise at the oddly sweet comment. Before she could really try to think about why his proclamation touched her just slightly, he was running his mouth all over again.

"Runnin' 'round Louisiana wit' you had to be some of the best fun Remy had in a long time."

"You're full of it."

He went on as if she hadn't even spoken. "More fun than fightin'. More fun than stealin'. More fun than Mardi Gras. More fun than corruptin' the youth—"

"Gambit."

"More fun than eatin' a whole mess of chocolate."

"Swamp Rat."

"More fun than blowin' things up."

"LeBeau."

"And trust me, Roguey, there ain't a whole lotta things more fun than blowin' stuff up."

"Remy."

He stopped talking. He didn't smile. He didn't say something smutty. He didn't go off on one of his odd, random tangents. Instead, he just tipped his head to the side curiously at Rogue. It reminded her of a puppy, who was hearing something intriguing but couldn't quite process what it was hearing exactly. His cheap sunglasses slid down his nose. His red and black eyes glittered over the top of the glasses. That was something Rogue hadn't forgotten about Remy in the many months since their abrupt departure.

His eyes were downright penetrating. Dark and mesmerizing and eerie and beautiful and odd and fascinating.

Now those eyes were giving her a look she couldn't quite identify. She wasn't sure if she wanted to know exactly what it meant. Remy LeBeau was not as frightening a man when she didn't know what he was thinking, strangely enough.

But if she were privy to his uncensored, candid thoughts….

Rogue had long ago decided that Remy LeBeau was better left as an enigma.

"That's the first time you called me by my name," he said after a pregnant pause. "I like how it sounds when you say it."

"With disdain and venom?"

The cheeky smirk returned. "Exactly."

She snorted.

"It adds a little spice to my name."

She chose to ignore that and instead focused on something different. The moment Remy or Gambit or Swamp Rat or whatever it was he wanted her to call her stepped into her world again, she noticed something were off about him. She had finally figured out what.

"Where's that trench coat of yours?"

He frowned just slightly. "Long gone."

"What happened to it?"

"It don' matter," he assured, waving the subject away airly. "I fully intend to have a new one 'fore the night is over."

"I don't suppose you plan on buying this coat?"

Remy didn't answer. His eyes were glued on the retreating figure of a blonde woman who had passed by them. An emotion Rogue could not and did not want to identify welled up inside her, making her cheeks burn. She couldn't see the front of the blonde woman, but her back was enough to get any man's attention. And apparently, Remy was one of those men. Rogue punched him in the arm.

"Ow! Why you hittin', Roguey?" he griped, rubbing his now sore arm.

"'Cause you're so easily distracted." She paused thoughtfully. "And don't call me Roguey, Swamp Rat."

"Jealous?" he probed, that maddening smirk back at full force.

"You're full of it, Cajun."

"Do you love me for or despite this?"

"Bite me."

"Later." He took hold of her arm and led her into the children's underwear section. It was one of a few places that made Rogue instantly uncomfortable. "But first, we gotta discuss the blonde."

"What about her? And stop touchin' me."

Surprisingly, Remy instantly let go of her. Instead, he dipped his head down to whisper into her ear secretively. Again, his eyes were peeking up at her from over his glasses. Now they looked quite serious. It instantly got Rogue's full attention.

"That woman, whoever she is, she's been followin' you."

"What?"

"For the past couple of days now. At first, I thought it was a coincidence. But she's been followin' you."

"Me."

"Well, not jus' you. The whole team. But I mostly notice you." He winked, but immediately went back to being serious. "But she been hangin' 'round for awhile. Rogue."

"What?"

"You need to watch your back. She's followin' you. Your team. I don' know what she wants, but be careful." He leaned in closer. So close, she could feel his breath fanning across her face. It smelled like smoke and…chocolate? How odd. Chocolate. "Please be careful, _Cherie_."

His pleas were very sincere. One again, he utterly threw Rogue off her game. The Gambit that said inappropriate things and put black lingerie in her shopping cart she could handle. The Remy LeBeau that had those intense eyes that seemed to beg for her to be safe?

That was a beast of a different color.

So Rogue did the only thing she knew how to do. She avoided it completely.

"You know, Remy, the only way you could have known the blonde was stalkin' us was if you were followin' us too."

"Not them." He grinned predatorily. "You."

**XXXX**

**You can probably expect at least one, maybe two more chapters up by the end of this weekend. No promises. But I will try. Cross my heart and kiss my elbow. Much love. But until the next update...**

**-M.A.**


	4. The Blonde

**Sorry for such a late update. Well, it's late for me anyway. Almost three in the morning. But my name ain't Midnight for a reason. Well...my name isn't actually midnight. But whatev. None of that is relevant. Do you know what is relevant? Your reviews. As usual, they were AWESOME.**

**BlueFox, there isn't a lot in life that's more fun than a whole mess of chocolate. Indy, the amount of time I spent thinking about their socks in absurd. And, perhaps the reason you seem to favor the last lines of my fic are because I am in the strong belief that the last lines of a story and chapter are very important. They should be strong. And everyone else? You rock. I'm so glad you liked the little prologue. So here's chapter four. It's not super awesome but it's one of those necessary chapters so we can move onto the fun stuff. So let's get on with it, oui?**

**XXXXX**

Remy LeBeau seemed as if he was going to be a common presence in Rogue's life. Which was quite unfortunate. Because it wasn't even like he was stalking her unnoticeably. He wasn't flaunting it so everyone could know he was following her every move. He only wanted Rogue to know. And she did.

If she was walking through the mall with Kitty and happened to look in the window of a Victoria's Secret, she would see him there, holding up a corset for her consideration. If she was in the park playing football with the boys, she would glance up and see him lounging in a tree, shuffling those stupid cards of his. Other days, she would walk into her bedroom and find a Queen of Hearts card under her pillow.

Rogue wasn't sure why she always checked under her pillow for it, but she did. She just hoped he didn't know. But the creepy stalker was probably pulling an Edward Cullen and watching her sleep. He was probably watching her right now, in this exact moment.

Rogue's green eyes scanned her room suspiciously. He was watching her….

Somewhere.

He was making her paranoid. Justifiably so, but really. The Cajun was ruining her life at this point.

She should tell Logan or Kurt or someone but she didn't. She liked to think that it was because she could take care of herself. She didn't need a big strong man to handle her pest problem for her. But she knew that it was because she didn't want anyone to know about Remy. Partly because he would be dead before he could blink his odd eyes. Partly because, well, she didn't want anyone else to know about Remy. He was her secret.

He was an annoying secret but he was hers.

Now, as Rogue lounged idly on her bed, she did not see Remy. She wasn't trying that hard to find him, though. Chances were, he was around. And if he wasn't around right at that moment, then he would be later in the day. It was something she had come to begrudgingly accept.

XXXXX

Remy LeBeau was annoyed.

The stupid blonde woman he had been tailing since that afternoon in Wal-Mart was eating up the time he could be stalking Rogue. He didn't like having to split his time between the two women. Especially when the blonde one was so difficult to keep track of.

The only time Remy could seem to keep an eye on her was when she was stalking the X-Men. There wasn't any X-Man in particular she was watching either. It was all of them. From the weather witch to the red head to the fuzzy blue one. All of them seemed to be her target. Just what she had in store for them was what Remy was struggling to figure out.

But if he was going to be honest (something he rarely did), that wasn't the only thing he was struggling to determine. He couldn't even get a _name_ on the woman. Or where she went after she had finished stalking the X-Men. She just seemed to disappear into thin air.

If his _Tante _found out the Prince of Thieves wasn't even able to get a name on some silly blonde, she might just skin him alive like she had been threatening to do since he was a young boy.

Remy hated this.

He came to Bayville to follow Rogue and get a fresh start on his life. Not to be a secret babysitter for some woman whose name he didn't know. He was ashamed. And currently, he was bored. Remy had been staking out a point the woman frequented but she hadn't shown up and nearly two hours had passed. Shuffling his cards was entertaining.

But not two hours entertaining.

He was seriously contemplating leaving his spot and heading over to the mansion to harass Rogue. That was_ more_ than entertaining. Perhaps he could crawl under her bed and give her a good scare at two in the morning. And with the angry one with claws wandering around, it would add a little danger to his impromptu, secret rendezvous in Rogue's room.

Yes, that was just what Remy would do.

The thief headed over to the mansion, not in any real hurry. He was too busy enjoying his brand new trench coat that he had stolen just two days before. It was almost as good as the old one. All he needed to do was sew in a few other hidden pockets and it would be perfection. Remy wasn't looking forward to the sewing though.

A seamstress, he was not. And not for the obvious reason.

Despite being blessed with nimble fingers, Remy LeBeau was not very good at sewing. He often pricked his fingers until he got so frustrated, he blew up the needle.

Remy LeBeau had gone through a lot of needles.

His odd train of thought was abruptly cut off when he saw a familiar figure turn a corner in front of him. And it appeared as if they had the same intended destination. Which was as interesting as it was worrying.

Remy followed the blonde, curiosity mingling with the disappointment he felt that he wouldn't be crawling under Rogue's bed that night.

But at least he wouldn't be bored.

XXXXX

_Students, please meet me downstairs._

That was all the mental message said. Which meant that it was probably important. Rogue turned her head to glance at her clock.

It was ten-o-clock and she was just about to zonk out for the night. Whatever the Professor wanted, it had better be good.

Swearing colorfully, Rogue rolled out of bed and stomped downstairs, Kitty following close behind her. She was one of many students who were filing downstairs to see what was so urgent. Eventually, all of them ended up standing around in the common room, annoyed and inquisitive. Logan, Ororo, and Hank were all there waiting for them but the professor was nowhere to be seen.

"What's this about?" someone in the crowd whined.

Logan grunted, all of the answer they were apparently going to receive. So they waited. And after almost two minutes, the Professor wheeled himself into the room, smiling that peaceful, somewhat amused smile. Rogue was too busy looking at the odd smile on his face to notice the woman standing beside him. She didn't notice her until he was half way finished introducing her.

"…newest member of the team, Emma Frost."

Rogue looked up with minimal interest. It took her a moment to recognize Emma Frost as the same blonde from Wal-Mart a few days before. But when she did, Rogue's eyes snapped open. Wide.

XXXXX

It was all quite easy. Freakishly easy, if she was going to be honest.

After Emma had been introduced, her classmates hung around to get to know her. Most of those classmates were young men who seemed enthralled with Frost's clearly fake breasts and apparent passion for white clothing. Rogue hung back in the distance, watching. Trying to understand Frost's sudden presence. Remembering what Remy had told her.

She considered saying something to the Professor. She immediately decided against it.

"Hey, Professor, I just wanted you to know that the new girl, Emma, she's been spyin' on us for at least a week. How did I know? You remember Gambit don't you? You do? Good. Well, he's been stalkin' me and while doin' that, he noticed Emma followin' us. Why didn't I mention it to you? Oh, well I didn't want Gambit to get in trouble and he said he had it under control."

Yeah, no. That was not a conversation she wanted to have.

So Rogue decided she would seek out her stalker (something the _Lifetime _movies she sometimes watched told her to _never _do). But it wasn't as if she could just invite Remy into the mansion.

So Rogue snuck out. And it was easy.

Everyone was busy talking about and buzzing around Emma. No one had time to notice if the quietest of the X-Men snuck out long enough for a walk. And if someone did happen to notice, she would just tell them that she needed air. They would accept it because everyone was afraid of Rogue and feared that if they pushed her too far, Apocalypse would blow out her ass.

Or something like that.

She knew that Remy would be waiting for her when she left. She didn't have to actually search for him. He was her stalker and he knew why she would be looking for him. It wouldn't take long for him to make his presence known. He was probably watching her now.

The freak.

Rouge walked to the Bayville Park. When she got to the playground, she saw two red eyes staring at her from the swings. Without hesitation, she approached him.

"She joined the team," the Goth announced without preamble.

Remy nodded. "I know."

Silence stretched between them for a long moment. Before it could become awkward, Rogue spoke up.

"You got a new coat."

She saw his teeth flash in the darkness when he smiled. "_Oui_."

"Looks expensive."

"_Oui_."

"Cost much?"

"_Non_," he said, laughing a little. She liked the sound of his laugh and was mildly disappointed when it faded into a memory. But Rogue had no desire to linger on those peculiar thoughts. It only made her wonder why she was feeling those peculiar feelings. Which reminded her of the odd, hostile feeling she felt when she thought she saw Remy admiring Emma's assets. And she didn't like remembering those angry, weird, and confusing feelings. And anyway, she didn't have a lot of time before she had to get back home. And being out here late at night be dangerous.

He might try to kidnap her again or something.

"Do you know anythin' 'bout her?"

Remy hesitated. "_Oui_."

"What do you know 'bout Emma?"

"…well, that her name is Emma. And that she's been followin' y'all."

"You've been followin' her followin' us for almost a week and all that you know is that her name is Emma Frost."

"Err, Frost. Emma Frost. Right. I knew that."

"That's all you know. I thought you said you had this under control."

"I do!"

"Shhhh!"

Rogue thought she heard Remy growl softly. "I do," he whispered. "But this one is hard to track. But wit' a name I can get some more information on her."

"I thought you already had her name."

"Uh…."

"Gambit."

"I've got it under control."

Rogue snorted. She seemed to do this a lot around Remy.

"I promise, I'll have more information for you tomorrow, Roguey."

"Your word means so much to me," she drawled. Again, she saw a flash of his teeth. She rolled her eyes at his smirk. "I'm goin' home now."

"Why?"

"I'm puttin' myself in danger with you."

"Remy's not dangerous."

"Are too. I could get blown up or kidnapped or—"

"I said I was sorry for that!"

"Not for almost blowin' my hand off!" Rogue sighed, running a hand through her bangs with exhaust. "Look, it's late. I can't be gone real long and you could do all sorts of horrible things to me."

"I wouldn' do anythin' horrible to you. Nothin' you wouldn' like, anyway," he added with a shrug.

"Dammit, Gambit!"

She turned on her heel and stomped melodramatically away from the man.

"Oh. And Roguey?" he called after her softly.

Her head snapped around, her eyes spitting emerald fire. It was the look that had sent her sane peers running. A look that any sane person would fear. A look that left other sane people quaking. A look that would silence any sane person upon seeing it.

Bur Remy LeBeau had never claimed to be sane and he wasn't about to start.

"Now that the Frost girl is on the team, I don' s'pose y'all still have room for one more, do you?"

**XXXXX**

**I think before I post another chapter or say anything else, we should establish something: I hate Emma Frost. I just do. If you like her, that's cool. But I do not. **

**That wasn't relevant but I felt like sharing. I'm being really odd tonight. Must be sleep deprivation. So, before I pass out or say something really weird, I will probably have another chapter tomorrow and the next day due to a cold that has left me at home and not at school. You're a lucky bunch, aren't you? **

**I was going to say something else but I forgot. **

**If this chapter sucked, I'm sorry. I promise. It'll get better. The fun stuff is on it's way. Cross my heart and kiss my elbow. **

**Much love. **

**-M.A.**


	5. The Telepaths

**Stupid cold. But it at least has enabled me to update this story. I'm trying hard to because all the reviews have been so great and you all just keep begging for more. So I try to accommodate. Besides, I like this story. It's fun. **

**ElvenMuggle, thanks for your reviews. They're always so encouraging. I'm trying to make Emma as accurate to how I think she is without seeming too biased. I'm glad it seems to be working. Indy, I'm not a big fan of any of the telepaths besides Betsy too. But I do kinda-sorta-not really like Jean. Ish. Emma, however, not a fan of. Everyone else, thank you! Hope you enjoy this new chappie. **

**XXXXX**

"She's a telepath. A strong one. Right up there wit' the red head one you live wit'. She is also a potential telekinetic but that ain't really somethin' anyone—includin' her—is focusin' on. More interestin' than that, she developed a secondary mutation that turns her whole body into an organic diamond. Makes her stronger. She don' need food water or anythin' while in her diamond form. But she can't use her telepathic powers in that form either."

"Tell me somethin' I couldn't find out just by talkin' to the girl, LeBeau."

"Well, Miss Rogue, Emma Grace Frost of Boston has three siblin's. Two sisters and a brother who's not only as gay as they get but locked up in an asylum after a failed suicide attempt. Emmy's papa offered her won' very nice of a fellow. Drove his wife to prescription drug use.

"Anyway, he offered Emma his empire but she rejected him 'cause of how he tossed her beloved brother away into the crazy house. 'Stead, she tried to rough it on her own. I was able to track her to a few different places—different male acquaintances' homes, a few different shelters, and other not so nice places—before she jus' seems to disappear. And she don' reappear again 'til she showed up at the front doors of the Xavier Institute."

Remy grinned wickedly. "How's that for only one day's worth of diggin'?"

XXXXX

Even if Rogue hadn't known that something more was going on with Emma, she still wouldn't have trusted the blonde.

Everyone seemed to like her well enough. She was somewhat…snobby but not to the point where she couldn't get along with her new teammates. The boys simply drooled over her and her gigantic, fake boobs. Not that they didn't have reason to. Not only were they fake but Emma seemed quite comfortable to flaunt her assets in every way possible without getting dress coded.

The girl seemed to enjoy pushing the limits.

And something about Emma Frost simply rubbed Rogue the wrong way.

She couldn't identify what it was about Emma she didn't like. She did not try very hard to figure it out. She just knew that something about the blonde didn't sit well with her. To her surprise, Rogue was not the only one who appeared to share this sentiment.

It didn't take Kitty very long to dislike Emma Frost. But the two women interacted as if they had been long time enemies. After only a couple of days, Kitty and Emma had developed a catty back and forth that consisted of Emma snidely commenting on Kitty's "frumpy clothing" and "annoyingly perky mannerisms." Kitty then shot back with an apology for her clothing choice, stating that she was just so busy trying to put on _all _her clothes (unlike some people) that she didn't have time to make sure they were to Emma's satisfaction. Rogue had never seen that side of Kitty before.

But she liked it.

Jean wasn't very receptive of the new telepath either. But Rogue saw that one coming a mile way when Emma's ice blue eyes lingered on Scott for too long a moment. Though friendly, Jean was territorial. And she wouldn't take kindly to someone eyeballing her lover boy. And as if that weren't bad enough, telepathy seemed to be the only thing in common.

Though irritatingly so, Jean was warm and approachable. Emma was rather…cold. Jean wore colors. Emma only wore white. Jean was open and friendly. Emma was quite reserved until she became comfortable with whomever she was speaking with. Jean's breasts were home grown. Emma's were not.

Rogue had no proof of the latter, but she was certain.

Unfortunately for Jean, the Professor had the bright idea to have the two women room together. It was only a matter of time before punches were thrown.

Rogue couldn't wait.

But she had other concerns other than which one of the telepaths would win a fight and where Emma Frost bought her body. She needed to know where she came from. One minute, the girl was next to homeless and the next she was at the Xavier Institute wearing designer sunglasses.

Something was not adding up.

And why had been Emma been following the X-Men days before joining? It was possible that she was simply getting a feel of the team before joining. But Rogue didn't think so.

She had a bad feeling about Emma Frost, after all.

XXXXX

The more he learned about Emma, the more fascinated he became. Her family dynamics that were just as screwed up as his—if not more—was the initial trigger. But after discovering the bit about her brother and stint with homelessness, Remy was wondering just what, Emma Frost was up to. And who she was. And where did she get her sunglasses. They were absolutely fabulous and he still hadn't gotten around to buying (or stealing) another pair for himself. He briefly considered stealing hers but decided against it.

White wasn't really his color anyway.

Putting on the cheap ones he picked up in Mississippi, Remy climbed onto his motorcycle. He had places to be and mysterious to solve.

As the Cajun sped down the busy New York streets, he let his mind wander to his personal issues. Even before he mentioned it to Rogue, he had seriously been considering joining the X-Men. Despite what he had been telling himself and others, Remy LeBeau did have some form of morals. He rarely listened to them but the fact was, they existed.

They had been gnawing away at him the moment Magneto waved that pretty penny in front of his face in exchange for his "make t'ings go boom services." And as much fun as it was to blow as much stuff up as he wanted for money, Remy needed more from life.

Watching a building glow pink before exploding with a satisfying "boom" could only bring a man so much satisfaction in life.

Not only that, but despite the lies he had spent years building up that stated otherwise, Remy LeBeau was a good guy. He wanted to fight the good fight. Blow things up for the betterment of his society. And yes, it wouldn't mean he could just go around making things explode like he used to but he figured it was a fair sacrifice.

But he also had no intention of denying Rogue was an added plus that came with his new lifestyle choice.

Ah, Rogue. He was so…fond of her.

There was something about the way in the way she spat the words "Swamp Rat" in regards to him that just made his heart skip a beat. It was just so…angry and Gothy and had just the right hint of southern twang that reminded him of home. And when she looked at him in a way that suggested she wanted nothing more than to pluck out his heart and feed it to starving rats?

How could he not love it? It made his heart _sing_.

He couldn't wait to actually join the X-Men so he could provoke her to the point where she looked like she was going to slap on a daily basis. Stalking her was fun and all but that wasn't as interactive as Remy would have liked. But he had to wait.

He had to wait until he finished his running around in regards to Emma Frost because he knew the bald one that ran the Institute would not like it very much if his newest member was always out of the house because he was spying on the old newest member. So he was driving his bike in the direction that would offer more answers in regards to the telepath.

But the moment he was done gather information on Emma Frost, he was getting a black leather uniform with an X on it.

XXXXX

Scott Summers was in trouble.

Fact: Jean was going to kill him.

He was in so much trouble and hadn't even consciously sought it out. In fact, what he had been seeking out was Jean Grey. Jean Grey, who had mysteriously gone missing. So, like a good boyfriend, he looked for her.

He poked his head in the kitchen, the common room, and the library. When he did not see his girlfriend's lovely head in none of those locations, he did the natural thing and went upstairs to check in her room.

Scott Summers first mistake was forgetting that Jean no longer had a room to herself. His second mistake was not knocking on the door that was left slightly ajar. Instead, he just walked in the door.

His third mistake was being unlucky enough to have such poor timing.

For the moment Scott Summers walked in the door, he found himself staring at Emma Frost. But not her face. No. The blonde was bent over the set of drawers that belonged to her now. And she was….

Well. Emma was gifted.

Scott gulped, knowing he needed to look away but unable the muster the willpower to do so. She was just so…gifted. She was also mumbling to herself angrily, which was actually kind of odd. It was enough to get Scott out of his lust induced haze and to clear his throat.

"Um."

Emma stopped her search for whatever it was she was looking for to look over her shoulder at Scott. A slow smile crept across her pretty features.

"Why, hello there."

"Um. Hi."

"Is there something I can help you with, darling?"

For a moment his mind blanked. "Oh. Um. Jean."

"Jean?" Emma asked, finally standing up straight so that she could face Scott fully. He couldn't help but notice that she was wearing a shirt. Something that normally he wouldn't have thought anything about except that Emma's shirt barely qualified as being a piece of clothing. Behind his ruby visors, his eyes bulged. Emma seemed to know exactly what had got her new leader so tongue tied.

"According to Mr. Logan," she began, tossing her long blonde hair over her shoulder, "my choice of wardrobe has been deemed 'inappropriate' and I have to change in order to be more considerate to my younger peers."

Emma pouted prettily. She peeked up at Scott from beneath her eyelashes. Again, he gulped. Audibly.

"You don't think anything is wrong with my outfit, do you Scotty?"

"Uh." His eyes darted down to her barely covered breasts before he realized what he was doing. Even if Emma could see where he was looking, he quickly looked back up at her face. "Err, I don't have a problem with it but uh, some of the younger kids might get…distracted."

Emma smiled. She kneeled down, never breaking eye contact as she picked up a white article of clothing off the floor. It dangled from her long fingers carelessly.

"That's very nice of you, Scott. Aren't you the leader of this team?"

"Uh…yeah."

"So much responsibility for such a young man. That's a lot of weight to carry on just your shoulders."

"It is but I can handle it."

"I'm sure. And your shoulders are so very broad, it shouldn't be a problem for you, should it?"

"Err…."

"Tell me: are your eyes as red as your face?"

"Err…."

Emma tipped her head back and laughed at him. Scott was not sure what he was supposed to do in this moment. He had also forgotten his original reason for coming into the bedroom. He was too busy trying to maintain eye contact with Emma and figure out how to keep up with her in her odd conversations. But mostly he was trying to not look down at her gifts.

Eventually, Emma lifted a shoulder in a casual shrug. "It doesn't matter, I suppose. I'll know soon enough."

"You will?"

"Well," she said, humor in her voice as she turned her back to him, "we are on a team together now. I'm sure we'll be getting to know each other _very _well now."

"Oh. Um…hey. What are you doing?"

With her back to him fully, Emma simply pulled her shirt off. "Changing, remember?"

Scott gulped. He had forgotten about that. And now she was there. In a room with him. Topless. Even if she had another white shirt that was slightly more appropriate there to change in just momentarily, this was not good. Except it kind of was because Emma had a very nice figure. Even if he was only looking at her back, the curve of her waist was captivating. And even with her back to him, that didn't exactly leave everything to the imagination in regards to her…gifts.

"Anyway, why were you looking for Jean?" Emma asked as she pulled the new shirt on over her head. This one at least covered a large amount of her torso, leaving only the naval exposed.

"Because _I'm_ his girlfriend. So why the hell were you topless in front of _my_ boyfriend?"

Scott turned around, his heart beating rapidly in his chest. Behind him, Jean stood in the open door. Her green eyes were fixated on Emma, who simply smiled at the fellow telepath. But after sending Emma a glare, she slowly turned her gaze onto Scott.

He flinched.

"Scott." She bit off the end of his name. "Would you give me and Emma a moment please?"

"O-okay…."

He didn't need to be told twice. He all but ran out the room. But before he could fully escape to safety, Jean called after him.

"I'll be with you in a moment," she added, not even turning to face him.

Scott Summers was a dead man. Because Jean Grey was going to kill him.

XXXXX

Remy LeBeau wasn't expecting that.

He'd been out all day tracking down Emma's last known whereabouts. He finally was able to do so when he found out Emma's last boyfriend had directed her to a club in New York City. From there, it appears as if the blonde wiggled her way into the club and found some sense of security.

What had thrown Remy LeBeau off was which club Emma had joined. The Hellfire Club.

He'd heard about the club back in his teens when he still lived in New Orleans. There was no way he couldn't have heard about them. Not because they were a very mainstream club (they were not) but because they were absolutely loaded. His father and his brother had once broken into their headquarters when he was fifteen and returned home with jiggling pockets.

The Hellfire Club was very exclusive. Invitation to the Club was only received through inheritance or influence. And not just any influence.

Tony Stark and Norman Osborn influence got you membership into the Hellfire Club.

The public was not very aware of the Club's existence. The few that were knew it only as a Club where the rich and influential interacted in order discuss whatever it was the rich and influential talked about.

That was something Remy had always accepted. The Hellfire Club was never really on his radar. He had planned of robbing them of their riches at one point in his life but he was in no rush to do so, especially since he was turning over a new leaf and all that crap. But now the unheard of club suddenly was at the top his list to investigate.

Why had a club that only accepted members that were as loaded as Tony Stark taking in a homeless blonde girl that, even if she had accepted her father's fortune, wouldn't have been offered membership to their elite club?

And what, exactly, had Emma Frost offered in exchange to get in?

Remy decided that whether the bald one liked it or not, he was joining the X-Men as soon as he got back to Bayville. He needed a much closer look at the Frost girl.

Plus, he was looking forward to pushing Rogue's buttons on a daily basis.

XXXXX

Jean and Emma stared at each other from across the bedroom. The tension between the telepaths crackled. Jean made no attempt to hide her fire like fury. Emma, however, merely glanced down at her nails in boredom, seemingly unaffected by Jean's deadly look.

"You stay away from Scott," Jean finally hissed.

"I can try, Jeannie. But we _are_ on a team together now." Emma bared her teeth in a threatening smile. "I'm sure we're bound to run into each other from time to time."

"You can at least keep your clothes on while he's around."

"I can try. There are no guarantees. Especially when your darling boyfriend seemed to have no objection to my wardrobe change."

Jean actually growled at the woman. Emma tossed her hair.

"Your Scott is such a stick in the mud. I wonder how hard it would be to corrupt him."

Jean snarled. "Don't. Go. Near. Him."

"And what if he goes near me, Jean dear?"

"He won't."

"Are you so sure about that?"

Jean paused for a moment, seeming unsure if she was really going to voice her thoughts. But after a brief hesitation, she did.

"What makes you such a bitch, Emma?"

The blonde looked completely unaffected. "Breeding, darling." She grinned. "Top class breeding."

**XXXXX**

**Those last two lines are straight from New X-Men. I don't have a lot of favorite Jean Grey moments, but that has to be one of them. **

**Well, I hope you guys liked it. I would get straight to work on chapter six but I'm off to go see Sucker Punch. I need some mindless violence to take my mind off my personal woes. But I will be back soon. Much love. **

**-M.A. **


	6. The Questions

**Hi!**

**Rogueslove22, thanks for ALL the reviews. Indy, I agree completely with your sentiments in regards to Scott. ElvenMuggle, I usually plan out my entire story on a piece of paper that has a basic plot synopsis of each chapter. I also include anything else I specifically want to be featured in the story. But from there, I just type it up one chapter at a time. Just let my finger have at it, see what comes up, edit it, and post it. It takes me almost a day, maybe two, to finish a chapter. But that's also due in part that I have an attention span that can rival that of a peanut. **

**But enough about me. Onward, to chapter six!**

**XXXXX**

It was funny.

When Remy joined the X-Men, everyone seemed to expect a very unhappy, vocalized reaction from Rogue. But everyone was unaware that she had been aware of Remy's presence for almost two weeks at that point and had long ago known about his intentions of joining the team. So when the Professor called everyone down so they could be introduced to Remy, Rogue nodded her head in his direction in acknowledgement before heading back upstairs. There was no swearing, door slamming, name calling, or Cajun punching.

Not at first anyway.

But living together and being teammates did not mean that Remy had to be in Rogue's good graces. That appeared to be his logic anyway. Because while he was perfectly polite, fun, and kind with all of his other teammates (with the exception of Scott) he was everything but with Rogue.

Though her initial reaction to Remy was calm, everything following that was anything but. Especially after only being at the mansion for all of eight hours, he decided to crawl under her bed and not crawl back out until two in the morning. The scare he gave her was far from funny.

Remy seemed to think otherwise though. That is, if the way he left her bedroom shaking with laughter was anything to go by.

Rogue had unhappily come to accept that her life was going to be a lot more interesting now that he was in the mansion.

"Remy's here to spice up your life," he told her one afternoon, winking.

Rogue didn't need any spice. She already had more than enough spice. She was a superhero. She did heroic things. When she wasn't doing heroic things, she was living with a dozen teenagers, an adventure in and of itself. She also went through Danger Room sessions run by Logan. And after these sessions, she had to try to avoid Kitty and her unhealthy obsession with dragging Rogue to the mall with her. On top of all of that, Emma Frost was here and Rogue not only had to determine just what the white witch was up to, but she also had to try to figure out who would win in a fight, Jean or Emma.

Rogue had a full plate. She did not need Remy LeBeau added to this plate.

But he was here. And he seemed quite content to stay on her heels whenever he had a free moment. And since super villainy had slowed down lately, Remy LeBeau had a lot of free moments.

But she couldn't help but notice that sometimes he would up and disappear for quite some time before finally returning the mansion without any sort of explanation. Rogue wondered where he went. What was so important that he had to stop pestering her?

Not that she wanted him to pester her or anything. It wasn't that she missed him or was curious or anything that would indicate any sort of soft or warm feelings toward her stalker. She certainly didn't miss his presence in a sick, masochistic sort of way.

She just wondered what was so god damn important that it could take him away from her side for so long.

Rogue sighed at her own thoughts. She had issues.

Lots of issues.

The Goth was in the common room, staring at the television but not really watching anything. Something was on. Something violent and loud but it couldn't even remotely hold her attention. Her thought were too full of Remy to enjoy whatever action movie that was playing.

He gave her no sense of peace, even in her mind.

Currently, Remy was missing. Had been for about two hours now. Rogue found herself unable to concentrate on much of anything, too busy worrying about who he was robbing blind. She had an obligation, as an X-Man, to make sure he didn't do anything too stupid. She also had an obligation to report any of Remy's suspicious behavior but she decided to neglect that one.

She had this under control. Gambit was her problem now. Whether she wanted it or not.

And she totally didn't. But it was her obligation now. It was something she had to do.

Before she came downstairs and turned on the television, she attempted to occupy her thoughts with subjects other than Remy by getting on her laptop. Despite the plethora of ways to get distracted on the World Wide Web, none of them worked. So here she was.

Sitting. Wondering where the Cajun man had disappeared to.

Rogue had begun contemplating whether or not she should make an effort to look for the nuisance, when the thundering sound she had come to associate with a motorcycle quickly snaked its way up the driveway of the Xavier Institute. She all but launched herself out of her seat so she could go see what sort of horrible things Remy had been up to.

When she got to the garage, he was still seated on his motorcycle, seeming out of breath. His helmet was off and—because he apparently God's gift to women—his hair was flawless. Literally. It looked like he just walked off the set of a photo shoot. And whatever he was selling, someone would buy. Probably women.

Maybe a couple of men.

But not Rogue. Never Rogue.

He let out a heavy breath, unzipping his black leather jacket. For some unknown reason, he glanced over his shoulder and found Rogue standing there. Despite the obvious fatigue that was weighing down on him, he managed to muster up a rakish smile for his fellow southerner.

"_Bonjour_, Roguey." He ran a hand through his hair. "Miss me?"

She snorted. "Not at all."

"Really? 'Cause you ran out here awfully fast."

"I wanted to know where the hell you've been." He turned to face her fully and saw that the black shirt he wore beneath his jacket had a large, slashing tear across his chest. Rogue gasped. "What happened?"

"What? Huh?" He glanced down, as if only just now becoming aware of the tear. "Oh. That. Nothin'."

"Nothin'? It looks like Wolverine had his way with you."

"Pssh. There's only one person I want to have their way wit' me and it ain't Wolvie." She ignored the comment in favor of examining his chest. Whatever clawed at Remy only grazed his skin just slightly. There was barely any blood, she was glad to see. She also couldn't help but see that Remy was a very…fit young man. Remy seemed to take note of her taking note of his fit tummy. "If you want to take a closer look, I could jus' take off my shirt."

She lifted her head and glared up at him. Remy shrugged.

"Is that a _non_, then?"

"_Non_."

"So it's a yes then?"

"What?"

"You said _non_ to my question. My question was whether or not you were saying no. You said no. Which means you said yes."

"…what?"

"You want me to take off my shirt."

"_Non, non_! No, I don't!"

"But you said you did." His fingers tugged the hem of his ruined shirt upward. "And never let it be said Remy LeBeau didn' give a girl exactly what she wanted."

Rogue watched as he pulled his shirt up far enough to see just how fit Remy LeBeau was. She saw evidence of his strenuous, thieving related exercises when she saw the six muscles that made up his stomach.

And his actual chest?

There was a scar running along one of his pectoral muscles that Rogue was very curious about. She wanted to touch it.

For curiosity sake. Not for, you know, him being absolutely delicious.

She needed him to pull his shirt back down. Because his stupid pecks and washboard abs were clouding her judgment. She came out her for some reason. Now she was struggling to remember why. She needed to make the muscles go away so she could think again.

"Put you shirt down, Swamp Rat," she managed spit out, her voice only wobbling slightly. She took hold of the black shirt and pulled it back down. Though sad to see the muscles go away, at least Rogue could think. "Despite what you think, not everyone thinks you're a Greek god."

"I don' want everyone to. Jus' you."

"Fat chance."

"Give me time. I'll wear you down."

"And how do you plan on doin' that? Tyin' me up and draggin' me across the country again?"

"_Non_. Just by usin' my natural charm. But if you want to use ropes, Remy can get into the kinky stuff. Jus' for you."

"You do realize that I can't control my powers and that if you touch me, there's a good chance you'll end up in a coma?"

"Bah. Details."

"Important details."

"So did you miss Remy while he was away?"

"Why are you changin' the subject?"

"That was the original subject. I ain't changin' anythin'. Did you miss me?"

"Where were you?"

"Out."

"Doin' what?"

"Stuff."

"What kind of stuff."

"Thief stuff."

"The kinda thief stuff gets your shirt torn?"

"You seem very fixated on my shirt. I can take it off to get rid of the distraction."

Again, he tugged up his shirt. Rogue pulled it back down. "Stop it! No!"

He looked at her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then he smiled. "Wanna take a ride on my bike?"

"Huh?" The sudden subject change threw her.

"Let's take a ride. It'll be fun."

"But…but…."

"But what?"

"You just got back home."

"So? Take a ride wit' me."

"Uh…."

"Remy promises: I'll drive _real _fast."

That got her attention. "…how fast?"

"Eighty miles per hour?"

He grinned. Not the kind of grin that usually meant that he was thinking something dirty. It was a genuine smile that showed real affection toward Rogue. And it was an excited grin.

Remy LeBeau threw Rogue his helmet, which she caught with ease. It was so shiny she could see her reflection in it. The smile on her face mirrored Remy's. She looked up at him.

"No." She shook her head. "A hundred miles per hour."

"Aw, _Cherie_, you know the words to make this thief's heart sing."

**XXXXX**

**For those of you who were curious about Sucker Punch, here is my honest to God review:**

**I liked it. But I came in knowing it was going to be visually awesome with hot chicks in cool fight sequences. I knew the director for his other movies (300 and Watchmen) so I had faith in what I was going to see. I wasn't expecting much of a plot but Sucker Punch surprised me. Because while at times it lagged, it held my attention. Of course it had its flaws but I enjoyed every moment of it (especially the moments featuring Jon Hamm). It was also very thoughtful. So if you want a fun movie that leaves you thinking afterward, go for it. Don't look for an Oscar worthy movie. It's not. But that doesn't mean it isn't entertaining or fun. However, if you don't like Snyder's other movies, don't bother. But I so loved it. **

**Anyway, next chapter will be here. Eventually. **


	7. The Motorcycle

**I know this is going to sound crazy, but when we featured Remy's naked torso for that brief period in the last chapter, I had no intention of making the fangirls squeal. Honestly. It didn't even occur to me. But I read the reviews and I was like "Ohhhhhh...". It made sense all of the sudden. **

**Well, never let it be said I didn't give my readers what they want...**

**So here's chapter seven. Enjoy!**

**XXXXXX**

In Remy LeBeau's opinion, there weren't a lot of things in life better than driving fast.

He came to this decision while speeding down the streets of Bayville on his motorcycle, breaking a hundred miles per hour. He would have gone faster but that would be too dangerous. Especially because he had a passenger with him today. So he kept it just above one hundred.

It was the responsible thing to do.

But anyway, driving fast was fun. Yes, other things surpassed it. But there was an indescribable thrill about swerving in between traffic at speeds that were very much against the law, seeing the vague blurs of angry driver that he zoomed past, and hearing the blare of horns that people honked out of frustration. But now there was an added bonus to speeding along on his motorcycle.

Rogue was with him. And because of how fast he was going, she had no choice but to wrap her arms around him good and tight. He could feel her—her heat, her breasts, her face—pressed against the planes of his back as she hung on for dear life. He especially loved when he turned a corner like a maniac and she _really _had to hold on. Maybe it was cruel. Maybe it was manipulative.

But that was how Remy LeBeau operated.

Behind him, Rogue was trying to say something to him. With his helmet on and the wind pounding in his ears, there was no way he was going to be able to understand a word the girl said. He was certain though, that she was asking him where they were going. He had no intention of telling her, even if he could hear her. He wanted to surprise his Rogue.

When he turned sharply, he thought he heard Rogue squeal but he couldn't be sure. Instead, he just picked speed with the last couple of miles approaching. The ride, while exciting, was short.

But that was bound to happen while speeding so he couldn't say he was surprised.

Eventually, they reached their intended location. Remy parked his bike in the completely secluded area. Pulling his helmet off, he turned to face Rogue, who was still clinging to him desperately. He frowned.

"Roguey?"

She said something. He didn't understand what. He took her helmet off for her, enjoying the sight of her brown and white flying in different directions when he did.

"Roguey? Are you okay? I was only doin' what you asked me to do. Was it too fast? I'm sorry."

Her eyes came into focus. When they did, they shone with something so wonderful, Remy had an undeniable urge to bring that sort of look to her face more often. With a whoop of delight, Rogue dismounted his beloved bike.

"That was so fucking awesome!"

Remy chuckled. "Language, _Cherie_."

"Can we do it again?"

"We gotta go home don' we?"

She grinned. "Can I drive?"

That took the smile off of Remy's face. "What?"

"Can I drive?"

"Do you even know how?"

She gave him a look that spoke volumes. Remy nodded, realizing he asked a rather stupid question. It wasn't that he didn't trust Rogue. It was just that he didn't trust her with his bike. But he couldn't tell her that. Not yet anyway. So he simply settled for:

"We'll see."

That seemed to appease her, for she let the subject drop. Instead, she took note of where Remy had taken them. Her brows pulled together in confusion. "Where are we?"

"Jus' a little outta the way spot I found couple days ago. Thought it'd be a fun place to have a good ol' fashion conversation."

"You wanna talk to me?"

"What more would I want, Roguey? Somethin' of a sexual nature?" He pressed his hand to his heart. "That hurts, _Cherie._ Remy was jus' lookin' for some companionship and you 'spect the worst of him. That really hurts."

She shoved him and he laughed at her. She shoved him again. "Just get movin', Cajun."

"Whatever you want, _Cherie_."

He attempted to grab her gloved hand. Rogue quickly snatched it away and gave him another encouraging push forward. Shrugging, he led the way.

XXXXX

"You want some chocolate?"

Remy produced some chocolate from one of the pockets of his leather jacket. Rogue frowned but accepted the candy. It was a little melted but completely edible.

"What's with you and chocolate?" she asked, peeling back the wrapper. Remy removed another chocolate bar from his pocket, this one for himself. "It's all I've seen you eat since you moved in."

"You been watchin' my eatin' habits?"

"Oh geez."

"And if you must know, Remy's got a bit of a sweet tooth."

"All you eat is candy! That's more than a 'bit of a sweet tooth'. How do you even manage to stay in shape in the first place?"

Remy laid down in the grass near Rogue, who sat at his side. He tilted his head back and let the sun beat down on the exposed skin on his face, neck, and arms. He closed his eyes languidly.

"Constant evasion of the law does a body good," he explained on a sigh.

"Do the tears in your shirt have anything to do with evasion of the law?"

Remy cracked open an eye to look up at his companion. "What is wit' you and your obsession wit' my shirt? Do you want me to take it off?"

Rogue rolled her eyes, taking another bite of her chocolate bar. "Why is it you always want to rip your clothes off around everyone?"

"Two things." He lifted his fingers to tick off each point. "One,_ I_ don' wanna rip off my clothes. I want _you_ to do the rippin'. Do all the rippin' you want. And two, you don' see me takin' anythin' off 'round everyone else. Jus' you."

Once again, she rolled his eyes at his honest sentiment. Remy responded by pulling his tattered shirt back up to reveal every inch of his six pack and scarred-yet-still-somehow-perfect chest. He watched with smug satisfaction as Rogue's eyes bulged, freely roving every inch of his torso. In his opinion, it was a torso worthy of roving.

She didn't seem to mind the scar. He was glad. He was afraid that she would find it unattractive but her green eyes traced the shape of it with extreme interest before dipping back down to his stomach. Her eyes seemed to take an obscene amount of time examining every one of his six stomach muscles before honing in on the trial of hair that started on his belly and disappeared into the waistband of his semi-visible boxers. He wondered where her thoughts led her when she saw that trail of hair. He wish he could know but he had an idea.

He shouldn't be so thrilled that Rogue found him attractive. But he did. But not for the obvious reasons. Well, not completely anyway. It just meant a lot to him that she didn't find him completely and utterly repulsive. Not that he truly believed that she disliked him as much as she pretended to but it meant a lot to know that she at least thought he was a looker.

That was something.

Now all he had to do was make her fall for him passionately. Couldn't be that hard, he decided. She had come looking for him after his rendezvous at the Hellfire Club, seemed genuinely concerned when she saw his torn shirt, and let him take her on one hell of a motorcycle ride. There was affection there.

Somewhere.

Satisfied, Remy decided he had been mean to Rogue long enough and pulled his shirt back down. The second he had concealed his lovely muscles, her jaw snapped shut and she seemed to come back to reality. She looked at him, her eyes and odd mix of embarrassment, anger, and confusion.

Remy smirked. Really. The girl was a delight.

"I only want you to like me," he confessed. He waggled his eyebrows at her. "Is it workin'?"

Whatever effect he had on her, it was over now. Because Rogue had gone right back to scowling darkly at him. She kept her gaze forward, taking an unladylike chunk out of the chocolate bar. Remy broke off a piece of his own and stuffed it into his mouth.

"Just because you look good," she said after a long silence, "doesn't mean that I like you."

"First, allow me to note that I am utterly thrilled to know you find me attractive."

She rolled her eyes for what had to have been the hundredth time that day. "Noted."

"Second, you don' have to like me to have primal, raw, animalistic, screamin', mind blowin'—"

"Gambit," she growled warningly.

"—sex wit' me. But after the mind blowin' sex—"

"Which I can't have because of the whole 'poison skin' thing."

"—Remy'll worm his way into your heart."

"Dear God, I hope not."

"Give it time, Roguey—"

"Don't call me Roguey."

"—and eventually you'll succumb to Remy's wiles."

She laughed out loud at that. "Succumb to your wiles? What is this? A cheesy romance novel?"

"Depends. Do we get to have cheesy romance novel sex?"

"No."

"Then _non_, this ain't a romance novel."

"So are you going to explain that tear or what?"

He sighed. She really wasn't going to let this go. It wasn't that it was deep dark secret that Remy didn't want to share. It was just that there wasn't much to tell. Shoving the last of his chocolate bar into his mouth, Remy sat up and faced Rogue.

Gosh, she was pretty. That wasn't relevant but it was just true and he couldn't help but think it every time he looked at her.

"I was in New York City," he finally admitted, trying to concentrate on thoughts that weren't consumed or centered around Rogue.

"Doin' what?"

"I found a lead on Emma Frost."

"Really?"

"Mm." He nodded once, glancing heavenward. It was a very clear, pleasant day. A day that should be spent on other topics other than what the newest X-Man was up to. It should be spent in a secluded spot, basking in the sun, eating chocolate, and snuggling with Rogue. Maybe doing the sun bathing and chocolate eating and snuggling naked.

Preferably naked.

Oh! Maybe they could take turns eating chocolate off of each other's' naked bodies while sun bathing in a secluded spot. Yes. That's what they should do. That would be perfection. But no, the stupid Frost woman was eating up all the time he could be eating chocolate off of Rogue. Remy wanted to hurry up and figure out what the hell she was up to so he could move on to more important matters.

Like Rogue. And chocolate. And chocolate on Rogue. Especially the last one though.

"Remy?"

He blinked, breaking out of the daze he hadn't realized he'd entered. "Huh?"

"Aren't you goin' to explain what you found out about Emma and her gigantic, fake boobs?"

"Fake boobs?" Remy lifted an eyebrow, giving Rogue a curious look. She stared at him as if he had grown a second head. "What fake boobs?"

"The ones on her chest." She gestured at hers, as if Remy needed an example of what breasts were. He didn't, but he greatly appreciated the sentiment. "Don't tell me, as a male, that you haven't noticed them."

"Of course I noticed," he admitted, speaking directly to Rogue's chest. "How could I not? It's like tryin' to ignore the sun or somethin'. But I have other breasts that are at the forefront of my mind. And Emma's aren' fake."

He didn't bother looking up to see, but Remy was pretty sure Rogue goggled when he said that. He all but heard her jaw hit the ground.

"You've gotta be kiddin' me! They couldn't be any faker if they still had the price tag on them!"

"Some girls are naturally gifted, _Cherie. _Take you for example." He nodded his head in the direction of her breasts, his eyes still glued to them. "They couldn' be more perfect if I dreamt them up myself. And trust me: Remy dreams a lot."

"Dammit, Gambit! My eyes are up here!"

"I know."

"REMY!"

Heaving a sigh, Remy looked back up at Rogue's face, meeting her eyes. They were two balls of expressive, emerald fire. They were his favorite things about Rogue. Her eyes. They told him everything he ever needed to know about her. If she was angry. When she was feeling determined. When she was feeling low. When she was feeling even the slightest bit of warmth for him.

Remy knew that if they day ever arrived that she came to care for him as much as he did for her, he would see all that affection in those eyes. He loved those eyes.

He smiled at her livid expression, pleased he could get such a reaction from her. And still, she stuck around.

"Hi."

She howled with rage. It was cute. "DAMMIT! Will you just tell me what you found out before I RIP YOUR HEART OUT THROUGH YOUR THROAT?"

"Is that even anatomically possible?" he mused aloud, a thoughtful look on his face.

"You're 'bout to find out first hand if you don't answer my questions."

He laughed at her but decided that he shouldn't push his luck. Rogue looked about ready to slap the smug look off his face.

"I found out that Emma has been associatin' wit' the Hellfire Club?"

"What's that?"

"A club in New York City that the rich and elite get together to schmooze."

"So what's the big deal? Emma's rich."

"She ain't _that _rich, Rogue." He gave her a very serious look. "And the club ain't takin' in a street rat blonde, no matter how large her breasts are."

"So what do they want with her?"

"I was actually tryin' to figure out what she wanted wit' them. The Hellfire Club ain't a very mainstream club and no one really knows what goes on in their headquarters." Once more, the Cajun made himself comfortable in the grass beside Rogue. "So I decided to find out."

"Is that where you were all day?"

He nodded.

"And that's where you got that tear in your shirt."

"I bumped into a couple of guards on my way out."

"Were you followed? Do they know where you are?"

"Don't insult me, Rogue." He scowled at her. "I'm a professional."

"Well excuse me."

The scowl melted away, replaced with a carefree smile. "Okay. You're excused. Now are you gonna ask what I found out?"

"What did you find out, Remy?" she asked, sounding like a tired mother trying to appease a child.

"That the club bein' jus' a place for the wealthy to mingle is a big fat front. But most of those involved don' seem to know it. They all think that what they see is what they get."

"But it's not?"

"_Non_. It's not. What they're really lookin' for—like any good group of bad guys—is power. Power through influence. Power through politics. Power through money. Jus' plain ol' power in general. Not a very original group of baddies, if I say so myself."

"What else did you find out?"

"Like I said, for the most part, most of the members don' know what really is goin' on wit' the club. But there's an inner circle of people who know what the real deal is."

"Who's the inner circle composed of?"

"Dunno," he admitted, shrugging.

"Well, what does Emma have to do with any of this?"

He shrugged again. "Dunno."

"Well did you find out _anything _else?"

"_Oui_."

"What?"

"That they make their women wear some absolutely _scandalous _outfits. Really. I was shocked. Not that I wasn' pleased. Jus' shocked."

XXXXX

He let her drive the bike back home.

And if he thought he was something special when he drove at break neck speeds, then Remy really had no idea what he was in for when Rogue took control.

She was pretty sure she heard him scream at one point.

The only downside to driving like a maniac is that rides ended so much faster than they normally would. This appeared to be something Remy was grateful for. Once the bike was parked in the garage safe and sound, Remy threw himself off of it, his legs shaking. He threw his helmet off. Rogue remained where she was seated, helmet tucked under her arm, smiling cheekily.

"What the hell is wrong wit' you, _Cherie_?" he demanded, his eyes wide with a combination of fear and shock.

"I like motorcycles," she explained demurely, batting her eyelashes.

The too innocent look combined with how incredibly comfortable she looked seated on his motorcycle made Remy grin. All signs of nervousness faded and the cocky Cajun had returned. Slowly, he approached Rogue. The look in his gleaming eyes reminded her of a lion who was about to feast upon a particularly delicious piece of meat.

Rogue gulped.

Leaning over the front of the bike, Remy came face-to-very-close-face with Rogue. His breath fanned across her face, warm and inviting. He smelled good.

Good god, the man was pure temptation.

"You like motorcycles, hmm?" he whispered, his voice a husky whisper full of tenor. "What is it you like 'bout them, Roguey?"

She blushed. She wasn't sure why, but she blushed.

"Is it that you like it fast? Or is it the vibrations that gets you goin'? Or is it that you like everyone else watchin' you have fun?"

She should have stopped him when he leaned in even closer. But her heart was beating too fast and her body was acting all…funny in response to his words and implications and his nearness and his face and then she remembered how his naked torso looked. Yeah.

Her body was acting _very_ funny.

Because of this, she did not attempt to stop Remy from leaning in even closer. He carefully brushed her hair from her ear so that he could whisper directly into it. And what he said….

"'Cause if it's that stuff you like, Remy can accommodate you in a way I'm positive you'll just _love_." He blew into her ear, making her shiver. "Wit'out the help of a motorcycle."

She wasn't sure if her body would ever _not _be funny again when he was around. Not after he said that.

**XXXXXX**

**Well. **

**I'm not quite sure what to say following that. I guess I should just read the reviews. I'm excited for the reviews. So review away!**

**-M.A.**


	8. The Enthrall

**Wow. When you guys review...you review. So thank you very much. BTW, BlueFox, I meant to say this earlier but it slipped my mind: now that you mention it, yes, Remy is very much like an attractive Urkel. Which gives me the odd mental image of him in suspenders and glasses...Huh. **

**Anyway, I was trying to figure out what kind of X-Men uniform Remy should have (don't worry. A better description of it will be coming in later chapters) so I hopped on the Marvel Database website and browsed the Remy LeBeau gallery. I eventually came to the decision that I liked the X-Treme X-Men one which is all black and fabulous. But I also came across another picture from the early 90's. I'm about to say something that some of you will agree with. Others may throw tomatoes at me. But here it is:**

**No one is so attractive that they can wear a speedo. Not even Remy LeBeau. So please Marvel, never again. **

**Um...I don't know what else I should say. So, um, here's chapter eight. **

**XXXXX **

The X-Men were an interesting bunch.

Emma had been staying with them for a little over a month at this point and she felt like "interesting" was putting it lightly.

Their dynamics were curious. They were all terribly annoying. All of them. In their own individual way. Each and every one of them was annoying.

The one who made ice, Bobby, he had a habit of icing over floors and watching with glee as his housemates fell on their behinds. The older blue fuzzy one, Hank, Emma didn't understand why he couldn't just speak like the rest of them. She had no problem with having a broad vocabulary but there was such thing as too much of a good thing.

The weather witch, Ororo, she was so pleasant. All the time. Even when she was being stern, her voice was so calm and somehow pleasant. The Professor was achingly optimistic. And her roommate Jean was such a damn goody-goody that it made Emma sick to her stomach. Even the incredibly attractive Scott was a stick in the mud.

But Emma had plans on stopping that.

The only student at the Institute she hadn't interacted with was the Rogue girl. The one with the streaks in her hair. Everyone else told her that that was Rogue's typical behavior. She wasn't very open with everyone. Generally not the friendliest. But the Goth rubbed her the wrong way.

The only exchange they had was during a Danger Room training session. Everyone was taking time to warm up and Emma couldn't help but notice the other new member with the odd obsession with cards was warming up. In all the time she had been at the mansion, she'd only seen him wearing that long brown duster. But as he was warming up in his new, black uniform, he pulled off the duster.

The boy was _fit_.

The broad shoulders and bands of muscles on his arms that were normally hidden by the coat were now up for everyone's viewing pleasure in his new sleeveless uniform. Emma took time to view. But she then noticed that Rogue was watching Emma watch Remy.

Rogue bared her teeth at Emma and the message was clear. He was off limits.

Normally, this would be all the reason in the world for Emma to push those limits but her attention was otherwise occupied with Scott. That and the Rogue girl was a little frightening. She doubted that she would show the same restraint Jean had.

The Remy man didn't seem interested in Emma anyway. Even when Emma wore her best shirt in front of him, his eyes remained glued on the Goth, who was all the way across the room.

Her best shirt!

And whenever he looked in Emma's direction, his gaze seemed to be fixated on her sunglasses. Which was just weird.

Whatever. He wasn't _that _attractive.

Despite the two oddball southerners, Jean, and the Kitty wench, the X-Men were a welcoming group. Annoying as sin but welcoming. No one asked anything of her. They invited her to events and to play sports and included her in their practical jokes.

The last one she could go without but at least she wasn't a lone target.

It was so odd. Having the father she grew up with was difficult because he demanded so much from all four of his children. Christian was a disappoint to her father but he didn't see how much potential his only son had. Emma saw. But it wasn't enough to keep him out the crazy house.

None of that mattered now.

She was here. She was an X-Man.

And she had a job to do.

She was searching high and low for her source of information. He had to have been hiding around the mansion somewhere. And the place was so damn big, it might take Emma awhile to find him. She just hoped he wasn't with his red head girlfriend.

She'd _never _get anything done if he was.

After a long search, she found Scott in the common room. Several of her teammates were in there, Rogue and Gambit included. They were seated at the far end of the couch. As was the norm with him, Gambit was smirking. Rogue looked exasperated.

On the other side of the room, Scott seemed to be mediating a fight between Bobby and Jubilee. Both of the younger kids were wearing pouts that made Emma roll her eyes. Scott was absorbed in what he was doing.

Emma had every intention of changing that.

"Oh, Scott," she said on a breathy whisper. His head whipped around and he found her standing in the doorway. She peeked up at him through her lashes. "You aren't terribly busy right now are you?"

"Um…" He looked back at Jubilee and Bobby. Bobby was staring at her chest again.

"Because I was wondering if I could have a word with you?"

He hesitated. Emma took that brief moment of hesitation to take just a little peek into his mind. Quietly, so he wouldn't notice her intrusion.

_…will kill me. She will. It's a fact. I'm lucky to be alive this time. But…Emma. She needs me. I'm the leader._

"Uh…sure," he said at last.

Emma grinned, grabbing his arms and dragging his room. However, the pointed nudge Rogue gave Remy did not go unnoticed.

XXXXX

"I'm so sorry to bother you. It's just that…well, I guess I'm having trouble adjusting. I know that sounds so crazy."

"It doesn't sound crazy."

"I just…this is so different from what I'm used to. Everyone is so…kind to me."

Scott's brow furrowed when she said that. He continued to lead her through an absolutely fabulous rose garden. Away from everyone else. Namely, the prying eyes of his girlfriend.

"Were people unkind to you in the past?"

Emma made a show of looking shy. She tucked a strand of her blonde hair behind her ear, keeping her gaze on her designer boots as they walked. "Yes. I suppose you could say that. My father. He wasn't the most friendly of gentlemen."

"Did you have siblings?"

"Yes. Three. Two sisters and a brother."

"Were you close?"

"My brother and I were," she said, no longer faking her unhappiness. She decided this was not a road she needed to go down. "But I would rather not talk about that."

He pressed his hand to her shoulder in a comforting gesture. Emma lifted her head and stared into Scott's ruby glasses. If she looked hard enough, she could see his eyes. Emma wondered what color they were.

That was not relevant.

"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. Whatever makes you comfortable."

"You make me comfortable," she murmured, smiling softly. She was pleased to see that he returned her smile.

"I'm glad."

The tender moment between them extended longer than it should have. Emma took another look into his mind.

_….pretty. Looks good in white. Jean doesn't. I wonder what…_

Suddenly, he shook his head. Emma blinked up at him in surprise. His hand dropped and he continued walking.

"I'm glad that you're comfortable with me," he said hastily. "But how are you doing with the others?"

"They're fine. They're very nice. A tad…." She struggled for a word.

"Immature?" he offered, the smile from before returning.

"Yes." She laughed. "Immature. Some of them are."

_She's got a pretty laugh._

"Do they make you feel welcome?"

"Yes. There are just so many people. I'm used to living in a house with only five other people. Now there are so many of them."

"Seventeen students. Four teachers. Several allies outside of the mansion." He lifted his hand as if he was going to touch her. He seemed to become aware of what he was about to do. He let his hand drop. ""Eighteen, now that you're here. You're a good edition to the team, Em."

Em.

Only Christian called her that. It sounded different when Scott said it. Not brotherly. Not at all.

"Am I?" she asked. "Diamond skin isn't that special. And I'm one of three telepaths."

"Don't be ridiculous. It takes some pressure off of Jean. And the diamond skin is…beautiful." He cleared his throat awkwardly. "And you can't find that durability any day."

"Are there a lot of durable members of the X-Men?"

He shrugged. "Some."

"A lot of these kids are still learning how to control their powers."

"They don't know how strong they are yet. But then, none of us really do."

"But some have more understanding and control than others?" she probed.

"Oh, yeah. Definitely. And there's such a diverse group of people and powers, we have a great team."

"Really now?"

"Really."

Emma reached out and took Scott's hand in hers. He stopped, his gaze dropping down to their hands before he looked back up into her face. She offered him her most dazzling smile.

"Tell me _all _about it."

XXXXX

Remy was uncomfortable.

He was all but lying in a rose bush, trying to inconspicuously spy on One-Eye and Emma but it was hard to while in his current position. Okay. That was a lie. It wasn't hard. It was just really uncomfortable. Normally, Remy loved spying.

Especially on Rogue.

But there wasn't anything fun about cuddling with a rose bush. The only advantage he could think of was that he would at least be able to take one of the offending flowers and save it for Rogue. Maybe he could sneak in her room in the middle of the night and leave it beside her pillow. Maybe with a love note. Oh! Better yet, he should leave the rose and a naked photo of himself.

Yes, that's just what he would do.

Oh, but he should probably pay attention to Emma, who he was almost certain was a traitor. He listened as she struck up a conversation with One-Eye, which was clearly to get information about her teammates. She wasn't very good at it. Good enough to fool One-Eye, who was too preoccupied trying to not stare at her very much not fake breasts to notice he was being played.

Remy noticed.

Honestly, he didn't have proof that Emma was a traitor other than a thief's intuition. But there were too many things adding up that weren't in her favor. But he wanted to be sure he actually had valid proof before he approached anyone but Rogue with his information. All he had to do was catch her in the act of her treachery and then—

Remy's eyes nearly popped out his head, ending his train of thought.

Emma.

She and One-Eye had been talking for a little over fifteen minutes now. He saw the sexual tension crackling between them. He didn't think anything of it because One-Eye was a boring old fool who was loyal to a fault with Jean.

Apparently, Remy was wrong.

Because Emma leaned up to kiss One-Eye. And One-Eye didn't do anything to stop her for a very long time.

XXXXX

He had to find Rogue. He had so much to tell her. He had to tell her what he saw Emma do to One-Eye. With her tongue. He also planned on mentioning his suspicions about Emma but mostly he wanted to gossip. The whole "traitor among the X-Men" thing could wait.

Especially because his lack of proof.

So he would gossip. Then mention the other stuff.

He zoomed through the halls of the mansion in search of the girl of his affections. It was growing late and chances were, she was in her room getting ready for bed. She had probably just taken her shower and was settling down for her night.

Yes, he knew Rogue's schedule. It came with being a stalker.

He hurried through the girls wing, aware that he was breaking rules by being in this section of the mansion past curfew. He wasn't allowed in the girls' wing past eight but Remy never really cared for following rules.

A rebel, that Remy LeBeau.

When he reached Rogue's bedroom door, it was closed. He briefly considered knocking before he remembered that—oh yeah—he was Remy LeBeau and he didn't knock. That was polite. And he wasn't polite. He was intrusive.

So Remy threw open the bedroom door.

"_Bonjour, Cherie_!"

"Dammit, Gambit! Get the hell out before I punch those freaky eyes right out your head!"

"Aw, Roguey, you say…."

He trailed off when he got a good look at Rogue.

Clearly, she had just gotten out of the shower. Her hair was wet and plastered to her face and shoulders. Her face was clear of all makeup. He forgot how wonderfully pale her skin was and how soft her features were when they weren't coated in that gunk. It also really brought out the green in her eyes.

He really liked her eyes.

His eyes dipped down to her shirt. Naturally, while loose fitting, it was long sleeved so that she didn't inadvertently due harm to Kitty or any of her housemates. The shirt was cute and gave her a comfortable look. She wore shorts though, because it was summer and it got hot in the mansion.

But as cute as she looked, that wasn't what made Remy LeBeau's word die on his lips. What tied his silver tongue was what Rogue wore on her legs.

Knee high socks.

They weren't very special socks. Plain white ones. He vaguely remembered her picking them up that day so long ago in Wal-Mart.

Currently, she was wearing one and in the process of pulling on the second one. Her leg was still stretched out, toes pointed.

Goodness, the girl had long legs.

Long and pale and untouched. The led the way to thighs that were begging for his undivided attention. Attention Remy was more than happy to provide for hours on end. What happened beyond those thighs was hidden by her sleepwear. He so wanted to uncover the treasure that was her body.

But those socks. Those damn knee high socks.

He had never been the kind of guy who had a thing for school girl fantasies. In fact, he didn't really have any fantasy in particular. They constantly shifted and usually centered around Rogue. But mostly he liked sex.

However.

Seeing her in those socks? Those pure white, wonderful, sexy socks? It made Remy reconsider his feelings in regards to the school girl fantasy. In fact, it made him reconsider everything that _didn't _incorporate knee high socks. He was even willing to think up a few new ones just so he could see more of those socks.

Didn't he come in here to tell her something? Something rather important? He couldn't remember. He was too busy trying to remember to breathe.

"Remy LeBeau, I am speakin' to you!"

He looked up at Rogue. She looked pissed. "Huh?"

"What do you want?"

To ravish her. Starting with her sock clad toes all the way to the top of her head. But she probably wouldn't like it if he said that. Instead, Remy went with:

"Uh."

"Get out!"

He couldn't even remember how to move. "Um."

"GET OUT!"

When he didn't move, Rogue got off her bed and stomped over to him. Taking him by the collar of his shirt, she dragged him back into the hall. She was so mad it looked like steam might just come from her ears and nose. It was an amusing sight that would normally make Remy laugh, but he was too busy imagining pulling those socks off.

With his teeth.

Once he was back in the hall, Rogue turned to go back into her room. He made one last attempt to form a semi-coherent sentence.

"…socks…" he squeaked.

Rogue slammed the door in his face.

He couldn't find himself caring. Because those socks…

Remy LeBeau was enthralled.

**XXXXX**

**Ah, the return of those socks. **

**I haven't typed up chapter nine, but I'm feeling like it'll be kinda short. So just a heads up. Gosh. This story is going to get good pretty soon. So stick with me. Much love.**

**-M.A.**


	9. The Guilt

**Two chapters in one night! **

**Gosh, I must love you guys. **

**XXXXXX**

Emma Frost did not go to bed that night. And, truthfully, even if she weren't supposed to be leaving long after her teammates had been fast asleep, she would have been up anyway. She was thinking about her kiss with Scott. It was good kiss. A perfect kiss.

Until the moment he tore his lips from hers, uttered Jean's name, and ran off in the opposite direction.

Emma made the assumption that Jean was unaware of the kiss because she didn't attack the blonde the moment she stepped foot into their shared bedroom. She just ignored her, as usual.

Emma looked at the clock. It was one in the morning.

Time for her to go.

Shaking thoughts about Scott Summers away, Emma crawled out of bed and into some dark, inconspicuous clothing. She pulled the window up, careful not to wake Jean. Emma let her legs dangle outside the window. Taking only a deep breath, she let herself drop. Before her feet could touch the ground, she transformed into her diamond form. The landing that might have broken something didn't even hurt in her durable and marvelous form.

Satisfied with her stealthy exit, Emma returned to her normal form and turned around to leave.

And ran right into Wolverine.

He looked as surprised to see her as she did to see him.

"Uh…hi," she said carefully. "What are you doing out so late?"

"Smoking," he said, as if the giant cigar in his mouth wasn't a dead giveaway. He frowned at Emma. She noticed that Logan frowned a lot. Like.

A lot.

"So what are you doing out?"

Emma shifted uncomfortably under the man's gaze. "I um….I don't know."

"You don't know?"

Again, she shifted. "I'm just feeling a little, I don't know, trapped right now. Everything is changing and it doesn't make sense." She gestured at the driveway. "Before I joined…when I was homeless…I used to walk. To clear my mind. To get a moment to breathe. I know I'm breaking the rules by sneaking out but I just needed some time to myself."

Logan lifted an eyebrow.

"The mansion is so crowded," she went on, hoping he would believe her. "It makes it hard to think. I'm used to being with just me. And I…."

"How old are you kid?"

"Nineteen."

He grunted. "Even if I wanted to stop you, I can't. You're a grown woman. And I ain't one to stop a kid from doing what they need."

"So…" Her eyebrows went up in surprise. "You're just gonna let me go? You aren't going to stop me or…anything?"

"Do you want me to?"

"No, but—"

"Then go before I change my mind."

"I…um…wow."

"The X-Men aren't here to stifle you, kiddo. Especially not me. I won't let you walk all over us but that don't mean I can't be your…."

He didn't try to complete his sentence. Emma gave him an odd look. For a long moment, she didn't believe that he would even complete his sentence. But finally, he did.

"That don't mean I can't be your friend. So get out of here, be safe, and get back home 'fore the rest of the mansion wakes up."

She left, touched by the gruff man's unexpected display of affection.

XXXXX

"So Emma."

The blonde lifted her head, hoping she didn't look as nervous as she truly felt. Three pairs of eyes stared at her critically. The only woman in the group leaned forward, her black hair falling onto her shoulders.

"Tell us what you discovered."

Emma cleared her throat. "There are more of them than we originally expected. Seventeen students. Three teachers."

"Anything interesting?"

"Yes."

"Elaborate for us, won't you dear Emma?" the dark haired man said in a way. It was more of a command, rather than a suggestion.

"The leader is of course quite powerful. But he's very much set in his own ways. Not to mention, he's crippled so of no use to you. The other instructors are powerful but they aren't what you looking for.

"Most of the students are very young and very immature. The young girl, Amara, codename Magma, shows very strong potential to one day grow into a strong mutant. An Omega in the future perhaps. There's also another girl, Katherine Pryde codename Shadowcat who can walk through walls."

"Now _she _sounds interesting."

Emma made a show of looking at her nails. "I suppose. But she's an annoying little cur who will provoke your ire to the point you'll regret bringing her into your circle in the first place."

The raven haired woman laughed. "Oh, Emma, you sound so hateful. I do like it."

"Tell us more Emma. Are there any men that we might be interested in?"

"Just one. He's a new member. I've only had the opportunity to observe him a handful of time but the abilities he's displayed are fantastic."

"What is his name?"

"Remy LeBeau. Former thief, if I'm not mistaken. Not only is he stealthy as sin but he has to be one of the best hand-to-hand combatants I have ever seen. He has to have mastered at least three different styles."

"Tell us more, Emma."

"He has the ability to tap into an objects potential energy. He makes the energy kinetic and whatever he touches explodes. He favors using playing cards." Emma crinkled her nose but smiled at the memory. "He describes it as 'makin' t'ings go boom'."

She giggled, but it died on her lips when she saw how seriously she was been looked at. She straightened her back and composed herself.

"We want him," the blond man said.

Emma shook her head. "No. You don't. As good of a fighter he is, he's too unpredictable. Absolutely untrustworthy. Half of his teammates are skeptical of his true motives."

"Then who do you have for us, Emma?"

"There are two girls. Both incredibly strong. An Omega. And her powers are only growing. The other one has an unlimited latent potential. Unfortunately, she is unable to control her powers."

"Names."

"Jean Grey and Rogue."

"Bring them to us."

XXXXX

Emma sat in the back of a limousine. It was almost three in the morning and she was tired. The limo would drop her off two blocks away from the mansion, where she would sneak back in.

She doubted she would be getting to sleep.

She thought about Scott and how his lips felt against hers. When she kissed him, it had been to get deeper into his head. But the moment her lips met his, something else happened. Something Emma couldn't quite explain.

But it was something nice.

It was something that made her stomach twist and heart pound and her breath catch.

She thought about Logan and his unexpected but sincere moment of kindness he had shown her without any suspicions or expectations.

She thought about the young one, Jamie, and how on her first day at the Institute, he came to her with flaming cheeks, offering to show her around.

She remembered how during a Danger Room session—even though she didn't like Kitty and Kitty didn't like her—the prep pushed her out of the way of an oncoming attack.

She remembered Remy's comment on "making things go boom" and how in never failed to tickle her.

She remembered the X-Men and how they accepted her with open arms. And no questions. And for the first time in a long time, Emma felt something that was almost alien to her.

Emma Grace Frost felt guilt.

**XXXXX**

**I should tell you guys something I'm sure you'll like: chapter ten is titled The Fight. **

**That's all I'm saying. But I'm sure that's more than enough. Much love.**

**-M.A.**


	10. The Fight

**Whoo. Late update. **

**I was at work all night. Then, when I finally got off, it seemed as if all of my friends wanted to have emotional breakdowns all at once. Then, The Soup came on and Joel McHale is just so funny and cute and tall and...**

**Like I said. Attention span that could rival that of a peanut. Annnnnywaaaaay...**

**I love how in all the reviews, there is an ongoing debate/discussion-thing about Emma. Is she good? Is she bad? Is that how I intended to write her? The answer:**

**I don't like Emma, no secret there. However, I do find her to be a very interesting character. Bad in every way but still somehow fights for the good guys. So that's how I wanted to write her. A villainous woman who can't quite commit to her villainous ways because somewhere, deep down, she's got a heart and feelings and guilt. She is human. **

**Even if I don't like her. Which I don't. **

**But just because I can humanize her doesn't mean I don't think she shouldn't get her ass kicked. Which is why this chapter exists. **

**Enjoy!**

**XXXXX**

They were the only thing on Remy LeBeau's mind. They were his obsession. His new passion. They haunted his dreams. The occupied his every waking thoughts.

Socks.

Rogue. In socks. Knee high socks.

The possibilities were endless. She could wear white ones. Or black one. He would blow up the Statue of Liberty to see her in pink ones.

Socks with high heels. Red socks—oh, he would kill to see her in red knee high socks—with matching underwear. _That _would be fabulous. But then again, Rogue in any sort of knee high socks would bring him an obscene amount of happiness.

Remy knew he had other responsibilities—figuring out what Emma was up to, being a good guy, trying to _not_ steal things—but…but….

_Socks_.

Knee high socks.

He couldn't help himself. Around two in the morning, Remy snuck into Rogue's room just to take a look at what other socks she had tucked away in her drawers. The only other pair were black ones with purple stripes. It was very much her style. He liked it.

He liked Rogue.

He liked Rogue a lot.

They were spending more time together. She was adorable and pretended not to like his company. But he found himself relishing every moment they spent together. Relishing it to the point where it was starting to freak him out a little. Even now, when he really needed to pay attention to what he was doing, he couldn't help but watch Rogue, who was all the way across the room. He watched as she sparred with Amara. The women threw a few punches before Rogue caught Amara by the arm and proceeded to throw the girl over her shoulder.

She was a vision, his vicious little Rogue.

But he really needed to concentrate.

Oh! But she would be absolutely delicious in nothing but red knee high socks and chocolate. Lots and lots of chocolate.

XXXXX

Rogue was frustrated.

She was also terribly distracted. But you try concentrating when Remy LeBeau was in the same room as you. Sparring. Training. Flexing muscles.

He got his new X-Men uniform. It was all black. Quite form fitting. With all sorts of belts and pockets to hold whatever it was that Remy felt the need to carry on his person. The best part of his form fitting, sleeveless uniform was that it was form fitting and sleeveless. Which meant she could see every curve, muscle, and bulge but still hid enough to leave something to Rogue's imagination.

After that day in the garage with the "motorcycle", Rogue realized she had a very active imagination.

She liked his arms. She liked watching him spar with Scott on the other side of the room and seeing the muscles in his arm flex with his effort. She was pleased to see that Scott was at a severe disadvantage while going against Remy, who had mastered three different styles of hand to hand combat.

She also liked how he would sometimes turn his head to look at her. He would hold her gaze for just a moment, wink, then continue to kick Scott's ass. One time, he even managed to throw the leader of the X-Men on the ground, leaving Scott flat on his back.

Was there really anything more sexy than Remy LeBeau tossing Scott Summers like a sack of potatoes?

Well….

Remy LeBeau on a motorcycle without a shirt. That was a more sexy than Remy LeBeau tossing Scott Summers like a sack of potatoes. But only just slightly.

There goes that active imagination again….

She needed to concentrate. Danger Room training sessions were not the place to think about Remy's body and face and arms and shoulders and his perfect tush. She needed to concentrate.

But she was going to take him out later that day. She discovered a little hole-in-the-wall restaurant that served authentic southern style food. She knew he would love it. Just like she would love it. And he would love it more because she was going to be with him. And she was going to love it even more because he was going and she was happy to be with him.

But it wasn't a date.

And she didn't like him.

XXXXX

Charles. Logan. Ororo. Hank. Kurt. Kitty. Rogue. Sam. Bobby. Remy. Amara. Rahne. Ray. Jamie. Roberto. Jubilee. Tabby. Laura. Forge. Jean.

Scott.

She knew them all by name. She knew their codenames. She knew their powers. She knew their strengths. She knew their weaknesses.

But Emma knew other things.

She knew Charles loved the song _Clair de Lune_, because she often heard it playing from his office. She knew that Logan drank strawberry milk at the wee hours of the morning, because, according to him, "real men are comfortable drinking something pink."** She knew Ororo loved flowers. She knew Hank loved expensive wines. She knew Kurt's favorite band was The Smiths. She knew that Kitty had a crush on an X-Men ally, a tall Russian. She knew Rogue was clearly in love with Remy. She knew Sam was afraid of spiders. She knew Bobby had a crush on Amara. She knew Remy was clearly in love with Rogue. She knew Amara had a crush on Bobby. She knew Rahne barked in her sleep. She knew Ray had an ongoing conflict with Roberto. She knew Jamie had a crush on Rogue. She knew Roberto had an ongoing conflict with Ray. She knew Jubliee thought Bobby was cute. She knew Tabby had a soft spot for fluffy animals. She knew Laura looked up to Logan. She knew Forge had a crush on Ororo. She knew Jean really loved Scott.

She knew Scott really loved Jean.

She also knew Scott really liked her.

Emma knew Scott was wrought with guilt over their kiss. But she knew he liked it. And she liked it. And she wanted to kiss him again. But she couldn't. Because she was a traitor.

But the more she thought about it and the team she reluctantly came to care for (deeply), Emma really was having trouble accepting the fact she was going to betray the X-Men. Because they weren't that bad.

At all.

But she was sparring with Tabby. She really needed to concentrate.

XXXXX

Scott was getting his ass kicked. Badly.

Remy was wiping the floor with him. And if it weren't so true he would have trouble admitting it. But he was really distracted and it was affecting his combative skills. Remy having mastered several different fighting styles had nothing to do with it.

Really.

But could you blame Scott for being distracted? He cheated on Jean. He cheated on her. With Emma.

Jean who was wonderful and friendly and warm and open and fierce.

But there was Emma, who was mysterious, and dangerous, and sexy, and cold.

Scott never thought he would be the kind of guy to be so torn between two women. No. He wasn't torn. He was just a little distracted by Emma. And her lips and her smile and her laugh.

But Jean. He loved Jean. He always has loved Jean. He doubted he would ever stop. He couldn't let himself be distracted by the shiny, new blonde. The fact was Jean Grey was everything he ever wanted and needed. He would be a fool to give her up because someone new was dangled in front of him.

That didn't mean that he couldn't stop thinking of his marvelous kiss with Emma. Something…electric passed between them.

Scott decided, after Gambit once again threw him on the floor, that he really needed to concentrate.

XXXXX

What the hell was wrong with Scott?

Jean just bet it had something to do with Emma. She didn't have Spidey-Senses, but if she did, she was pretty sure they would be going off. Something was happening between them.

Jean was never the kind of girl to question her boyfriend's every move. She was the kind of girl who trusted her boyfriend. She was the kind of girl who wasn't threatened by other women.

That was until Emma Frost and her massive fake boobs waltzed into the door.

She missed Scott. She missed the way they were. And she missed the days when Emma Frost wasn't a problem and a roommate.

Jean shook her head of the thoughts. She was training. She really needed to concentrate.

XXXXX

Charles Xavier looked as his X-Men. He could tell everyone's mind was on something else. Mostly his senior members. But even some of the younger ones were too. Like Amara. While sparring with Rogue, she lost focus and ended up using her powers in defense. Fortunately, the only damage done was to Rogue's sleeve, which was completely burned off. But Charles did not like seeing so many of his X-Men being so sloppy and distracted.

Seriously.

Was _anyone _concentrating?

XXXXX

Anyone watching would have seen it coming a mile away. It didn't matter that it was clear that it was going to happen because there was no stopping it. It would be like seeing a woman step out into traffic. You knew the car was coming but there was nothing you could do to stop it.

Emma was walking through the Danger Room to deal with a minor cut she received while sparring. Rogue was sparring when Amara kicked. Rogue tried to block. She failed. Amara's foot landed squarely in her chest. It wasn't very hard but it sent Rogue stumbling backwards. She stumbled just as Emma stepped into her path.

Her sleeve was burned away, revealing a lot of the skin on her arm.

Emma was wearing a sleeveless outfit.

In all honesty, the two women only had skin to skin contact for the briefest of moments. They only brushed against each other. Emma shuddered. For a moment, just one moment, Rogue started to apologize. But then she stopped midsentence. It was clear she was processing whatever information she gathered from Emma.

Then Rogue frowned. And she snarled with something that could only be described as pure rage. The entire X-Men—students and teachers alike—watched as Rogue _literally _picked Emma Frost off the ground, held the girl above her head, before slamming the blonde on the ground with all her might.

If that wasn't shocking enough, the words Rogue uttered stunned her teammates more than her incredibly aggressive display.

"_TRAITOR_!"

XXXXX

Rogue felt like a snarling pit bull. She wanted to attack Emma Frost with everything she had. She wanted to tear the woman apart. She wanted to kick and punch and bite and destroy her.

Traitor. Traitor. Traitor.

She didn't see every bit of Emma's plan. But she saw meetings with the Hellfire Club. She saw all the information she had gathered about the X-Men. She saw Scott. She saw the kiss Emma and Scott shared. She saw the vague faces of the Inner Circle of Hellfire Club.

Rogue saw that.

It was more than enough.

Emma Grace Frost was a traitor.

Rogue was going to make her pay. They took her into their home. They made her welcome. Not only had she betrayed everyone's trust, but she even dared to step in on Scott and Jean's relationship?

Spying and betrayal just wasn't enough for her apparently.

Rogue planned on ripping out all of Emma's pretty blonde hair.

"You, lying, hateful bi—"

"_Cherie_," Remy said, appearing out of nowhere. He grabbed her around the waist just as Rogue lunged at the woman who was still on the floor. "Rogue, don't."

"LET ME GO!"

He murmured soothing words in French into her ear. It didn't actually soothe her but his breath on her skin and his arms around her did make for a good distraction.

As Remy continued to try to calm her, the others quickly gathered around the trio. Rogue and Emma both were asked question after question. They all blended together but they all meant the same thing. Rogue had no qualms about answering.

"_She_," Rogue spat, the words leaving a bad taste in her mouth, "has been watchin' us. She's a spy for the Hellfire Club. She's been gatherin' information on us and givin' it to them! She's a liar! She's a traitor! She's been usin' us and lyin' this whole time!"

For just a brief moment, Jean Grey was completely still. Then, as if someone turned on something in her mind, the red head roared something that would have frightened even Rogue and jumped on top of Emma, her fists flying.

"Jean!" Scott bellowed, wanting to end the fight but not wanting to get in the middle of the two women. Especially now that Emma was throwing punches right back.

"Jean!" the Professor yelled. Especially when Jean yanked out a large tuff of Emma's hair.

"Jean!" Ororo said, concerned when Emma hit Jean square in the jaw.

"Jean!" Rogue and Remy said in unison, both of their eyes lighting up with glee.

"Go Jean! _Kick her ass_!" Kitty hollered, jumping up and down excitedly. "_Kick her ass_! _Take her down_!"

"Kitty!" the Professor shouted, shocked.

"Oh. Sorry…but not really."

"This is so hot!"

"Bobby!"

"Well it is! Maybe one of Emma's boobs will pop out that top…."

"_Bobby_!"

"What!"

Rogue and Remy watched as Emma rolled, straddling Jean and raining punches down onto the red head. The Jean seemed at a disadvantage until she managed to grab another handful of Emma's hair. She tugged, making Emma wail in pain. Using her slight advantage, she twisted and threw Emma off of her.

"Twenty says that Jean kicks Em's ass," Remy whispered into Rogue's ear, his eyes glued solidly to the warring telepaths.

Rogue shook her head. "No way. Normally, I would agree with you. But I think Emma could just suffocate Jean to death with her giant, fake boobs."

Remy laughed then winced when a particularly brutal punch was thrown. "That gonna leave bruise in the mornin'."

"Oh yeah. Definitely." Emma backhanded Jean. "Ouch. Damn, the blonde fights dirty."

"That's the only way to fight, _Cherie_."

The turned their heads to the side as the two rolled across the floor, screeching and bloodthirsty.

"You think those two will ever be friends?" Rogue asked idly.

"Nah. Not unless somethin' crazy were to happen."

"What kinda crazy?"

"Jean would havta…I dunno, die or somethin'."

"Jean's stubborn. She wouldn't stay dead anyway."

"Ha."

"Ha."

It appeared as if the fight would go on forever until Jean managed to rise up above Emma. She spoke a phrase that best not be repeated in polite company before slamming her fist with all her might into Emma's nose. There was a very much audible crunching noise.

Emma screeched, her hands covering her nose. Blood ran down her face, between her fingers, and onto her pretty white clothing.

"I think you broke my nose!" Emma moaned, sounding close to tears and angry all at once.

"Dammit," Rogue grumbled.

Remy snickered as she reluctantly handed him twenty dollars.

**XXXXX**

****a reference to the book _Wolverine: Worst Day Ever_. It's a book for kids in about middle school that my mom bought me. It's below my reading level but it was very well written and just cute. Great for kids but with references to the comics the adults would get. So, if you're raising a kid who you want to grow into a good ol' fashion comic book geek, I highly recommend it. **

**Anyway. I'll try to update soon y'all. Hope you liked the fight. If not, well then, I guess I'll just have to write it again. Which, if no one really likes it, I will. But I hope you like it. 'Cause I don't wanna have to to redo this. But I will. For you.**

**My, aren't you all a spoiled little bunch aren't you? **

**-M.A.**


	11. The Wall

**Whoo! It's chapter eleven. **

**ElvenMuggle, I meant to tell you this earlier: Yes, I have read Remy's Pursuit. I LOVE it. It's in my favoirtes. **

**BlueFox, your idea for Remy and the Statue of Liberty and the pink socks intrigues me. I might just have to type that up when this is all done and over with. And actually, Kitty had a strong dislike for Emma in the comics so I was basing her dislike off of that. **

**Everyone else, you rock. Please keep reviewing. **

**XXXXX**

Rogue had a really bad headache.

After they managed to pry Jean off of Emma's prone body, they called for a meeting with all the senior members of the X-Men, Remy included. The rest of the students were sent to the upper levels of the mansion to entertain themselves until the meeting was over. Emma received medical attention (much to Kitty and Jean's protest) then was brought down with the seniors.

All of the chaos alone was enough to give a girl a headache, but then Rogue also had a torn sleeve to worry about. Remy LeBeau made her headache that much worse when he adamantly insisted that she wear his trench coat.

"It's for the safety of you and our classmates," he insisted.

Right.

He pestered Rogue to the point where her throbbing brain was pounding. Finally, just to shut him up she put the coat on.

It smelled like spices, leather, and something very Remy-like. It was very large and engulfed her. For some reason, Rogue liked the idea of being engulfed in Remy's sent.

Then she rolled her eyes at her own stupid sentiment.

There was one last cause for her aching skull. She was still in possession of Emma's powers. Which meant Rogue was a temporary telepath. And Emma was a strong telepath who had the skills to control her powers. Rogue lacked these skills.

She could hear everyone's thoughts.

It was really hard to concentrate on the meeting when she heard every one of her teammates' thoughts.

Rogue massaged her temples, unable to focus on anything but trying to block out the voices.

Seated directly across from her was Jean, who was brandishing a bloody lip, a black eye, and several unpleasant looking bruises. She had never seen little Miss Perfect look so…unperfect. Yet she was an angel in comparison to Emma, who had ugly dark circles under her eyes and a bandaged nose. The woman looked like she had been through hell and back.

Rogue focused on trying to shut out everyone's rampant thoughts.

_…believe it. I liked her. I trusted her. I….I betrayed Jean for her and this?_

_ ….the kid was no good. Shoulda trusted my guts…._

_ …Jean kicked her ass. Wish I could have gotten in on that…_

_ ….I cannot believe I let her slip into my mansion without being aware…._

_ …traitor. She's a traitor and nothing more. Traitor…._

_ ….my home, my friends, my boyfriend. She was after everything…._

_ ….Cherie looks real good in my coat. Kinda funny, seein' as how it's pretty much swallowin' her whole…_

_ ….so screwed. And my nose hurts. What will I do? The Club…the X-Men…what have I done…_

_ …she don' find my cigarettes in my pocket. Been tryin' to quit when she said she didn' like me smokin'. It's hard…_

_ ….I would break her nose again if I could…_

_ ….I will just have to be more mindful of who I let on my team…_

_ …I liked Emma. She can't…I don't believe…_

_ …motorcycle. I wanna take her ridin' again. Real fast, jus' like she likes it…._

Rogue frowned. The others were focusing on Emma. But whenever she heard Remy's thoughts, they were centered around her. Which was odd, seeing as how there were more pressing matters to attend to. But then again, Remy never seemed to do anything he didn't want to do. If he wanted to think about Rogue in his trench coat, then Emma Frost would just have to wait.

Curious as to what else he thought about her, Rouge tried to hone in on Remy so she could have a clearer understanding of his thoughts.

_…how exquisite she is. She's perfection. And if she would stop coatin' her face in that makeup gunk, then Remy don' know what'd he do. Too wonderful for words. What's wrong wit' me? She's jus' one girl. Can't let he get to me like this. Gotta get her outta my head. But whenever I try, I jus' keep thinkin' 'bout her eyes. And her voice. And how pretty her frown in. I wish she would smile more. I wanna make her smile more. Then sometimes I think 'bout chocolate but eventually, I think 'bout Rogue again. _

She snickered.

_….understand what's happenin' to me. All I want is to be 'round her. Make her angry one minute and the next have her all dazed and wantin' like that day in the garage. I wanna see every expression and emotion pass through those eyes and then I wanna push every one of her buttons til she 'bout ready to explode. I don' care 'bout her powers. Never will. _

A small smile tugged at Rogue's lips.

_…chocolate. Knee high socks and chocolate. What Remy would do to get her in some knee high socks. Red ones. Then I get some chocolate syrup and pour it everywhere. Then when I was done wit' the chocolate syrup, I would lick…_

Rogue gasped, quickly summoning up the will power to turn into a diamond. She remembered that when Emma was a diamond, her telepathic powers didn't work. She wasn't sure why she didn't remember that earlier, which would have saved her a headache. But she was glad she remembered now.

And she thought _she_ had an active imagination.

Everyone looked at Rogue when she gasped. Now, with her diamond skin, everyone was staring at her like she had grown a third head.

"Uh…couldn't control her powers. It just happened," she explained, gesturing at her skin.

Everyone seemed to accept this. Except Remy. Who simply turned his head in her direction.

"Sure. _That's_ what happened."

Then he winked.

XXXXX

Emma didn't feel well. And not because that red head bitch broke her nose.

That certainly did add to it though.

After Rogue discovered the truth and they pulled Jean off of her, Emma was taken to the med bay for medical treatment. She was escorted by Logan, who was scowling harder than she had ever seen him scowl. She could feel the anger radiating off his skin yet he said not a single word to her.

That was when the guilt became unbearable for the first time.

"Logan, I—"

"Shut up," he told her, his jaw clenched so tight he barely moved his lips.

"But I—"

"Save it."

He led her inside the med bay where Hank was already waiting. He shoved her into the room none so gently. Emma stumbled. Just once, she looked over her shoulder at Logan. She hoped he would see her battered and bruised face, the blood stains on her hands and clothes, and the regret in her eyes and he would see how sorry she was. She hoped his expression would soften just slightly.

It did not.

From there, her day only went downhill.

Hank patched her up and even found a student with minimal healing powers to help her with her nose. But after that was over, she was taken to a meeting with the others. She felt like she was on trial.

She sat a large conference table. She was on one end, Charles on the other. Around her were the senior X-Men, all of them looking disgusted and saddened by the revelation of Emma's true motives. Yet no one was speaking. So Emma remained silent until someone decided to speak to her.

The person who finally came around to talking was Charles. He simply put his hands on the table, looked her in the eye and said "Why?"

Why, indeed.

Emma knew why she had done it. She knew how all of this came to be. Yet when she thought about the circumstances that brought her to this moment, none of it really made sense anymore. It seemed like so long ago when she approached the Hellfire Club. Now every meeting she attended with the Inner Circle was flashing through her mind.

But more than that, she saw every pleasant moment she had with the X-Men. She knew she had quite a few. But it wasn't until there was the threat of her never having another one did she realize just how many there were. Emma realized, now that she had been caught and now that she was about to be exiled, that she really wanted to be an X-Men.

It was far too late now.

She let her gaze drift over to Scott, who sat at the Professor's right. He wasn't looking at her. He wasn't looking at anyone, actually. He was just staring at the conference table, his brow furrowed. Emma could tell just by his expression just how torn up and wrought with anger and guilt he was. But she wanted to know more. She wanted to look into his mind.

But Rogue was still in possession of her powers. Rogue, who appeared to be struggling with them.

Emma recalled the moment that they touched. Yes, she felt the shocking transfer of powers. But Emma also felt something else. Some little sliver of information deep in the recesses of Rogue's mind—something the Goth probably wasn't even conscious of—seemed to get tangled up in the power transfer. Emma could feel it.

She just couldn't find it.

She wondered how much Rogue knew from that brief touch. Did she know that the Hellfire Club had their sights set on her and Jean?

Emma doubted it. If Rogue knew, she would have long ago voiced this.

The only person who seemed to be unfazed by all that had gone down was Remy. He looked as if none of what he heard was news to him. That made Emma very suspicious of the man who made things go boom.

She sighed.

She was so screwed it wasn't even funny.

"Emma."

She lifted her head. She stared Professor Xavier, the man who had brought her into his home with open arms, dead in the eye.

"Have you anything to say for yourself?"

She had a lot of things to say. But none of that mattered. The X-Men wouldn't care. She had long ago lost their trust.

"No."

"I see. Do you wish to speak in your defense?"

"No."

"Do you want to speak against us?"

"No."

"I see." He looked to Logan. "Will you please take Miss Frost to one of the holding cells? Give her time to reflect." Charles looked back to Emma. "We'll come back to you tomorrow morning. If you've changed your mind, we will be more than happy to talk."

Looking at the faces of the people she had come to care for, Emma doubted that everyone was anything but happy to talk to her.

XXXXX

"How about this color?"

Rogue looked up without interest. Then she shook her head.

"Not green."

Kitty lifted another bottle for her consideration. "This?"

"Kitty."

"Yeah?"

"That's pink."

"A girl can dream," Kitty said, sighing as she tucked away the pink polish. "What about red?"

For some reason, the moment Kitty said "red", Rogue thought of Remy LeBeau's eyes. Those red and black eyes that never failed to dance so mischievously. Thinking of his twinkling eyes made her think of his mouth. His mouth that was always twisted up in a smile.

Remy LeBeau had a lot of different smiles. There was his grin, which typically appeared when he was saying or thinking something lewd. When he smirked, he was probably feeling smug. Smug because he had done something horrible or irritating. Or horribly irritating.

Remy LeBeau didn't just smile very often. But when he did, it usually meant he was feeling something…more. The first time he smiled at Rogue was when she was saying goodbye to him in Louisiana. The next time she could recall was when she had agreed to take a motorcycle ride with him. He had smiled at her a lot that day actually. His red eyes had twinkled a lot that day too.

"Okay. I can do red."

Kitty squealed with delight, quickly undoing the top to the nail polish. She bent over Rogue's feet and began painting the toenails with delicate precision. Naturally, Kitty started talking about only god knew what. Probably about the beat down Jean gave Emma. But Rogue didn't really care about that. She should have been thinking about the betrayal, and Emma, the Hellfire Club, and the danger the X-Men were in.

But she wasn't.

She was thinking about Remy and his eyes and his smile. She was also remembering his thoughts she got a peek of earlier that day. The sun had long ago gone down but she couldn't forget what he thought.

He thought she was _exquisite_. Not pretty or beautiful. _Exquisite_. He was trying to quit smoking just because she didn't like it.

He didn't care about her powers.

Rogue thought he had been completely unaware of her mental intrusion. But then he winked at her.

Did he want her to know what he thought of her? Chocolate syrup fantasies included?

It should have bothered her, knowing how strongly he felt for her. But instead it made her feel all…happy. It made her heart do a weird flippy thing. And her chest did a weird constricty thing.

See?

The incident with the "motorcycle" was long over and Remy LeBeau was _still _making her body act funny.

Rogue wondered when she would see him again. Their non-date had been cancelled in lieu of what happened with Emma. The Professor and Logan thought it would be best if the students remained in the mansion where they were together. That way, if the Hellfire Club struck, they wouldn't be caught alone. Which was understandable.

But Rogue had been looking forward to motorcycles and southern food and Remy LeBeau's company. Mostly the last one though.

"All done."

Rogue snapped out of her thoughtful gaze. Kitty beamed proudly at her roommate's feet. It was an odd sight that made Rogue chuckle a little. But she dipped her gaze down to her freshly painted toenails.

They were a bright, ruby red.

"I like it," she said, nodding her head in approval.

XXXXX

_Rogue._

Rogue turned, pulling the covers over her head.

_Rogue._

Was she going crazy or was she hearing voices? She had been hearing one for a very long time. Ever since she and Kitty turned off the lights for bed, she had been hearing a voice. She was almost certain that it was Emma's voice she was hearing. But that was crazy. The powers she had absorbed faded hours ago and the Professor helped her with suppressing the psyche.

_Rogue._

Then what the hell was going on?

_Rogue, you two toned twit. Get down here._

_ Emma?_

_ Yes, you psycho. _

Growling softly, Rogue rolled out of bed. She briefly considered pulling on a pair of gloves but decided against it. She was in her pajamas—the loose long sleeved shirt, shorts, and knee high socks—and had no intention of changing. If Emma had a desire to try to touch her, she was more than welcome.

Rogue was jealous that Jean got to have all the fun.

The mansion was asleep when she slipped out of her room. She was surprised that it was so easy to creep to the lower levels of the mansion without rousing a single person. But she was able to go all the way down to where Emma Frost was being held. Without hesitation, she stepped into the cell.

For a pregnant moment, the two women simply stared at each other. Rogue was the one to break the silence.

"You look like hell."

Emma lifted her chin, trying to look unaffected. "I am very much aware that I do, thank you very much."

"What do you want?"

"I needed to talk to you."

"About?"

Emma shifted where she sat. "Everything."

"Why did you betray us?"

"I needed a home. I had been without for so very long. Then a boyfriend pointed me in the direction of the club. They offered security." Her blue eyes wavered, something Rogue had never seen them do before. "I haven't been secure in a very long time and it sounded heavenly.

"But the club wasn't taking in street rats. You need money to be invited to the club and it was something I severely lacked."

"So you offered them us?"

She at least had the decency to look abashed. "I was appealing to them because I'm a powerful telepath. But they wanted me to earn my worth. Earn a spot among them. So they told me I should infiltrate the X-Men. Hand select a few of you to bring to the Club. By force, if necessary."

Emma turned her head so she was staring toward the right of her cell. There was nothing to see yet her gaze was so intent. Rogue watched Emma's eyes narrow. She appeared to be thinking over her words very carefully.

"A problem occurred," she said at last, "when I came to care for you group of oddballs. I'm not sure when it happened yet suddenly the security the Club offered no long appealed to me. I wanted to stay here but I didn't know how to back out. Everything….I don't know what happened. But after I got to know you all, I didn't want to betray you."

She finally turned to look back at Rogue.

"But how was I supposed to turn my back to a group like the Hellfire Club? They could have had me _killed_. I felt all these obligations tugging at me all at once and…"

"And why should I believe you?" Rogue challenged, putting her hands on her hips defiantly.

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about. Something happened when we touched today. I peeked inside of your mind and saw a brief flash of something. I've spent the night figuring out what."

Rogue rolled her eyes, unimpressed and unbelieving. She gestured for Emma to continue anyway.

"I was not surprised that during the transfer, I inadvertently activated my telepathic powers. What surprised me was that I couldn't see anything when I was in your head."

"Yeah." Rogue shrugged. "I've got a mental wall up that helps me against telepathic intrusion."

"No. It wasn't a mental block. But whatever it was, it remained with me. I've been stewing for quite some time as to what this wall was. I think I have an idea but I need to know a few things about the origins of your powers."

"You mean you didn't find all that out while you were doin' your spyin' for the Hellfire Club?"

Emma reacted as if she didn't even know it was an insult. "No. I didn't. I only gathered information on your strengths and weaknesses. Background information was not necessary, not to mention harder to come by. Now just tell me when your powers manifested."

"When some guy fell on me and touched my skin on accident," she answered, huffing tiredly. This whole conversation was stupid.

"What happened after that?"

"I freaked." Again, she shrugged. "I didn't understand what was happenin'. Ended up absorbin' a few other people."

"Mmm…"

"Mmm what?"

"I think I know what that wall in your mind is."

"What?"

"I think the wall is a side effect, your mind's misconstrued way of trying to protect you from your own powers. When they manifested, you had a poor reaction. To protect you, you put up mental barriers."

"And that means…?"

"That means that, because the wall went up and your powers never had an opportunity to grow past their initial nascent stage, they haven't functioned properly."

"And that means…?"

Emma took an opportunity to huff herself. She gave Rogue a martyred look, as if she were speaking to a simpleton. Rogue bared her teeth at her again, tapping her foot impatiently. She had better things to be doing at the moment. Like sleeping. And dreaming. Of motorcycle rides and Remy LeBeau and chocolate.

Wait, what? No! No Remy LeBeau and _definitely_ no chocolate.

"It means," Emma explained, grinding her teeth together in frustration, "all you need is a strong telepath—like myself—to go in, tear down those walls and then you'll be able control you absorptive powers."

_That_ got Rogue's attention.

**XXXXX**

**Thank goodness for the Marvel Database. Without it, this story would not exist. For real. Best. Website. Ever. **

**Anyway, I'll probably have another chapter up next. I know this one wasn't particularly "funny", but I wanna move the plot along. Promise. The next chappie will not only have fun stuff, but MORE action, some Romy related violence, and the reappearance of the Knee High Socks.**


	12. The Intrusion

**Only one note and that's to TheBeginningsEnd: no, I didn't make it up. Rogue recently gained control of her powers in the comics and that was the explanation they offered. So I used it for mine. **

**Anyway. Enjoy!**

**XXXXX**

Rogue took a step back. Her legs started shaking and her head spun. Emma couldn't have told her that she would be able to allow Rogue to control her powers. Shaken to her core, Rogue stumbled backwards until her back hit the wall, at which point, she slid to the floor. Emma simply watched with a quirked eyebrow.

"You…can help me control your powers?"

"Yes."

Rogue let out a shaky breath. Was it really that easy? Would she go to bed tonight and be able to touch in the morning?

Oh god. What would Remy do when he found out about she could control her powers?

Chocolate and "motorcycles" flashed through her mind.

The X-Man ran unsteady fingers through her hair as she tried to fully comprehend what Emma was offering her. She needed to focus. She needed to remember what she came down here for in the first place. She couldn't be tempted.

"What does any of this have to do with me believin' you?"

"Think, Rogue." Emma got to her feet. She crossed the distance of the room so that she was standing before Rogue. She knelt down so there was barely any distance between them. "I'm not doing this because I like you."

"Gee, thanks."

"I'm doing this as a show of good faith. If I prove that I mean you no harm, if I unlock your powers for your benefit and help you, the X-Men will be more inclined to trust me."

"Just 'cause you help me doesn't mean they'll be ready to be your friend again.'

Emma nodded. "I know. But it is at least a start."

"And how am I supposed to know that you aren't lyin'? How do I know that you aren't just gonna, I don't know, send me into some weird coma thing or screw with my brain and make me think that I'm five year old boy named Jim?"

"One, because I wouldn't make you think you're a five year old boy named Jim. It would be much more my style to make you think you were forty-five year old divorcee named Tom who was going through a midlife crisis."

Rogue snorted.

"Secondly," she continued, "you will know my true motives."

"How?"

Emma lifted her bare hand. "Absorb me. Absorb as much of me as you want and when you see that I mean you no harm, I'll tear down those walls for you."

XXXXX

Remy LeBeau couldn't sleep.

He was a bit of an insomniac anyway. It was a learned behavior due to years of staying up late so he could break into places in the wee hours of the morning. But now that he was leading a (semi) respectable life, there was no reason to be up so late. He probably should see the Professor about his insomnia or something. Remy was in no rush to get help though. Even if he wasn't planning an elaborate heist, not sleeping allowed him to think. His mind was always moving at a rapid fire pace—how else would he be able to think of his witty commentary on the spot—but at night, it gave him time to really understand the depth of his thoughts.

Not surprisingly, he was thinking of Rogue.

Surprisingly, there was no nudity, chocolate, or socks of any kind involved.

Remy was a little disgusted with himself because he wondered if it were possible Rogue was awake thinking of him too. That was a sappy thought that Remy would deny ever thinking until the day he died. But it was true. He was curious how often she thought of him.

He thought of her a lot.

It was such a peculiar feeling. He felt like she was very far away at that moment even though she was only down the hall. Sleeping in the same house as him. Possibly staring up at the same ceiling as him.

Maybe she was thinking of him naked.

Probably not but maybe.

Before his thoughts could be further occupied by nudity, a loud crash had Remy sitting upright in his twin sized bed. His roommate, Bobby (he wondered who had _that _bright idea) was startled into wakefulness.

"What was that?" Bobby asked, still tired but trying to be alert.

He did not receive an answer because Remy interrupted with an even louder explosion form somewhere downstairs. Immediately following this, Kitty phased through his wall and straight into his bedroom. She was in her pajamas, hair thoroughly mused, and looking panicked. Her eyes scanned the decently sized bedroom rapidly, still looking worried.

"Where's Rogue?" Kitty demanded, staring directly at Remy.

"What do you mean? She's your roommate. Ain't she in there wit' you?"

Kitty shook her head. "No. She's not there."

Remy was ready to panic. Someone was breaking into the mansion and his Roguey was missing. If Emma Frost had anything to do with her disappearance, Remy was going to find the blonde and he was going to make her pay. Just thinking about it made his eyes crackle and spark and go ablaze with all the power he had spilling over inside of him. Remy was ready to do all of that.

But then he realized something.

"Why did you think Rogue would be in my room?" he asked Kitty.

"Well, I—"

Downstairs, someone screamed. Remy wasted no more time. He grabbed his bow staff and a deck of cards and ran out the room, far ahead of Bobby and Kitty. Once he was in the hall, he could hear that the other X-Men valiantly fighting whoever had broken into the mansion. Crashes and explosions filled Remy's ears. Each one only filled him with more fury and concern.

Where was Rogue?

When he finally got downstairs, he found the foyer filled with sleepwear clad X-Men fighting against a multitude of people in black and red costumes. He recognized them as the minions for the Hellfire Club.

Emma Frost was a dead woman.

The Cajun dived head first into the fight, his temper making him fight harder. Made him fight more effectively. He was having a bit of trouble seeing due to his eyes glowing from the energy in him wanting to get out. There was a redish tint to everything but Remy did not let that stop him. He fought along his teammates, tearing through enemy after enemy. All the while, he searched for Rogue.

He saw no sign of her.

To his left, he saw a henchman for the Hellfire Club headed directly for him. Turning to face him, Remy extended his bow staff and swept the man's feet from beneath him. He sat on top of the man and pressed his staff over his neck. He applied enough pressure to make it clear that he was not bluffing.

"Where is Rogue!" he screamed into the man's face. "You tell Remy now, eh, or this Cajun's face is gonna be the last thing you ever see. _**Where is Rogue!"**_

"Gambit! What in the blue hell are you doin'?"

Before Remy could make good on his threat, someone grabbed him by his wife beater and yanked him off the prone man. He was forcibly turned so that he was facing…Rogue.

The amount of love that filled Remy's heart when he saw her face nearly knocked him off his feet. He noted that Emma was standing behind Rogue, looking woozy and shocked at the hell she created. Then he noticed something else.

Rogue was holding onto his bare arms and she wasn't wearing gloves.

Remy's eye bulged. "_Cherie_, where were you?"

"I was—look out!"

Rogue tugged Remy forward, sending them both tumbling to the floor. Remy managed to twist in the air so that he was the one to hit the ground. He grunted, his shoulder taking the brunt of the hit and throbbing with the pain. Remy was vaguely aware of something sailing over his head, the something that Rogue probably just saved him from being hit with. He was grateful for that. He was also grateful that thanks to her impromptu rescue and his quick reflexes, Rogue was lying on top of him.

Tonight was not as bad as a night as Remy originally thought.

There was very little room between their bodies. Even less room between their faces. Rogue was so close that he could see the flecks of gold on the edges of her green eyes. He also saw for the first time that there were freckles dusted along her nose. Her hair tickled his face.

She was so close. And her hands were on him. How, he didn't know. Honestly, he didn't care at that exact moment. Because her hands were on his skin and he could feel her long, lovely fingers against his skin. His skin which was so heated but her hands were cool, a very pleasant contrast. He felt them move against him in an explorative, curious kind of way.

He wanted to tell her that she could explore him all she wanted, but his tongue didn't seem to be working at the moment. Which was annoying.

Rogue was able to touch him and he could touch her and _now _his tongue didn't want to work. Just when he was able to put it to good use.

He stared into her eyes. Her pupils were expanding to the point they all but engulfed the green, leaving only two dark, inky pools of perfection. She made a soft little noise.

Remy wanted to say something. He didn't know what. Then, just for a brief second, Rogue's eyes flickered past Remy to glance up. She gasped then sat up straight so that she was straddling him. Remy grinned.

This worked too.

But before he could say something inappropriate, Rogue lifted her hands in a defensive position. A fist came barreling down moments later. Remy watched as she fought with a Hellfire henchman all while straddling him.

Yeah. Tonight really was turning out to be a good night for him after all.

It was rather impressive, actually. She was at a huge disadvantage due to her position and yet she was holding her own against the henchman just fine.

"Remy," she grunted, blocking another punch. "Where's your staff?"

"Keep wigglin' 'round like that, _Cherie_, and I'm sure you'll find out."

"Dammit, Gambit! Your bow staff. Where is it?"

"Oh. _That _staff." He handed it to her. "Here you go, Roguey."

When she had the bow staff, the fight didn't last much longer. With one good swing, she managed to knock out the henchman. She rolled off of Remy and jumped to her feet. Remy followed shortly after. He noticed in the distance Emma was fighting.

With the X-Men.

Heh. Interesting.

"Come on, LeBeau. Let's kick some ass."

They could try, but Remy was going to be really distracted. Especially because Rogue was fighting in her knee high socks.

XXXXX

Rogue was tired.

And with Kitty taking a bad hit during the fight and spending the night in the med bay, one would think Rogue would have no trouble getting to sleep with a room to herself.

Wrong.

First, there was the initial clean up following the fight. Only so much could be done, for the foyer was completely trashed. For everyone else, it was bed time. But not Rogue. Because she had questions to answer as to where she was when the mansion was first attacked. When she explained what happened with Emma, the Professor felt it was necessary to gather the senior members around to discuss the new development.

Emma was given another opportunity to speak for herself and this time she did. Whenever there was a question of her loyalty, Rogue reluctantly was able to fill in all the gaps. She explained what Emma did for her and how she had absorbed her. There was nothing that Rogue wasn't privy to.

Emma confessed everything. She even detailed how the Club was targeting Jean and Rogue. Once again, Jean very nearly leaped over the table to attack Emma but Kurt and Scott were able to grab hold of her. When asked about the attack that occurred, Emma revealed that she had no knowledge of the Inner Circle's plans. She could only provide information and do as she was told. Only after she was an official member would she know the details of their plan.

Begrudgingly, they accepted this. The meeting was dismissed and everyone headed upstairs for the rest they so desired.

Did Rogue get to sleep then? Nope.

Instead, she dragged her body tiredly to her room. Rogue was still in her pajamas, which were torn during the fight. Even her socks were an unsalvageable mess. She wanted nothing more than to pull off her dirtied clothes, crawl into bed and sleep like a rock.

She reached for her sock when there was a knock at the door.

"Come in," she said, letting her foot drop.

Logan stuck his head in the door. "Hey, Stripes."

"Hey."

"I just wanted to check in on you. You were fightin' like a pro out there and wanted to be sure you were all right."

Rogue smiled faintly. "I'm fine, Logan. Thanks."

"Good." He grunted. "Well, Imma get outta here before we start gettin' emotional and shit. See you tomorrow, Stripes."

"See ya, Logan."

The door closed. Rogue reached for her socks once more but then someone else knocked. Sighing tiredly, she let her foot drop. She could just pull off her socks with someone in the room, but she didn't feel comfortable doing so. She had been in control of her powers for less than eight hours. She wasn't used to the idea of having bare skin around when others were close.

"Come in."

Kurt stuck his head in the door. "Hey, Rogue."

"Hey."

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Are you?"

"I'm fine." Kurt paused. "Have you seen Gambit?"

"Nooooo….." Her eyes narrowed. "Why?"

"I just noticed he's been hanging around you a lot lately and no one has seen him since the meeting. He's not in here is he?"

Rogue rolled her eyes. "No, Kurt. He's not in here."

"Has he been giving you any trouble?"

"No, Kurt."

"Oh. Okay." He looked around the room one last time. "Well, just let me know if he does."

"Okay, Kurt. I will."

"Goodnight, Rogue."

"Goodnight, Kurt."

"Oh. And congratulations. For your powers."

"Thanks, Kurt," she said with a genuine smile.

The door closed. Rogue returned to her sock related task.

Someone else knocked on the door.

"You gotta be kiddin' me…" She growled under her breath. "What?"

Scott opened the door. She had never seen him look so very uncomfortable before. Quietly, he shut the door behind him.

"Hey, Rogue."

"What do you want, Scott?" He opened his mouth to speak but Rogue raised her hand to silence him. "Cut the bullshit before you even start. You want to know if I'm gonna tell Jean about you and Frosty's little kiss."

"…yeah."

"That's not my place. Whether I like it or not, I'm not gonna be the one to go blabbin' to your girlfriend that you can't keep your lips to yourself. If you wanna keep it a secret, then do that. If you tell Jean, then it's your funeral." Rogue leveled her gaze at him. "But know that I'm not gonna be okay with you takin' advantage of Jean. I may not like either one of you two, but she deserves a _lot _better than that. If I find out you did somethin' like that again, I ain't gonna tell Jean. But I am gonna kick your ass from here to next week and you can have the pleasure of explainin' to everyone why I had to do that."

Rogue pointed to the door.

"Now get the hell outta my room."

Without another word, Scott turned and left. The door shut. Rogue waited. And waited.

There was silence.

She smiled goofily, pleased to finally be able to dress down and go to bed.

And then there was a knock at her door.

And Rogue exploded.

"Mother Mary and Joseph! I just fought in my _pajamas_, absorbed the disturbin' thoughts of Emma Frost, sat through an hour and half long meetin', and all I wanna do is take off my _god damn socks _and no one will leave me the hell alone! _What do you want_?"

The door opened and shut moments after. It was only when she heard the door lock did Rogue look up. Remy LeBeau, wearing only a torn wife beater and sweatpants, stood there. He had a look on his face.

The same look he had in the garage that day when he made her body act funny. Only now it was that look times ten.

Rogue felt wobbly and weak just looking at him.

"Poor Roguey," he said, his voice low. "You must be worn out from your adventure today. Don' worry. Remy gonna take care of you."

He started to close the distance between them. His eyes freely roved her body, looking absolutely wanting and hungry and…something else. Something she couldn't identify.

"And why don' we start wit' these enthrallin' little socks of yours?"

Rogue gulped.

There was _no_ way she was getting any sleep tonight.


	13. The Socks

**Have I told you guys lately how awesome you are? I haven't. Gosh. I'm really sorry. Well allow me to make up for it.**

**You're awesome, you're awesome, you're awesome, you're awesome, you're sooooooooooooo awesome.**

**I can't say I'm very surprised that everyone reacated the way the did in regard to Remy's staff. Haha, I'm glad you guys liked it. Well. It's time for the fun stuff. So here's the next chapter. I REALLY hope you like it.**

**XXXXX**

"Remy…uh, what are you doin' here?"

"Jus' checkin' up on you, Roguey."

She laughed nervously. "As you can see, I'm perfectly fine." She laughed, which made her stomach hurt. "Ow."

Remy chuckled at her, shaking his head. "You don' seem fine to me."

"Well, I am."

"Really now?" he asked, lifting an eyebrow. He looked rather amused at her denial.

"Yes."

"Prove it."

That threw her. "Huh?"

"Prove it. Why don' you, I dunno, stretch or somethin'. Jus' to prove to your ol' pal Remy that your jus' fine."

"Oh. Um…no problem."

He gestured for her to proceed. Rogue stretched her whole body, trying to mask her pain when the stretch tugged painfully on her aching muscles. Remy saw right through her show.

"I'm fine."

"Tsk, tsk, tsk." He continued to grow nearer to where Rogue sat on the edge of her bed. "Roguey—"

"Don't call me Roguey."

"—Remy jus' wanna take care of you. Now didn' I hear you mention—somewhere in between Mother Mary and wantin' be left the hell alone—that you wanted to take off your socks?"

She shrugged, ignoring the pain that shot through her shoulder. She made a poor attempt at seeming blasé and bored with Remy's presence. But she was anything but. Her body was positively _humming _with anticipation.

Again, she had visions of chocolate and "motorcycles."

"You're sore. Lemme help you out."

"Remy, I—"

"Jus' lemme take off your socks, _Cherie_." He looked up at her with dark, puppy eyes. How was Rogue supposed to resist puppy eyes?

She wasn't, that's how.

So she sighed. "Go ahead, you weirdo."

He grinned happily, kneeling down in front of the bed. Her legs dangled off of the side, right in front of Remy. He stared at her sock clad legs. They were far from special. The socks were a boring white before the fight. After, they were brown from dirt and dried blood. There were holes in them. Rogue was quite perturbed, having only bought the socks recently and already they were ruined.

Stupid Hellfire Club.

But Remy didn't seem to care though. He was staring at those socks like he was seeing the sky for the first time.

"What is it with you and socks?" she asked with genuine curiosity.

"I'll tell you when you're older," he murmured distractedly

Taking her by the ankle, Remy lifted her foot. Rogue pointed her toes. She was surprised by the infinite gentleness in which he touched her. He took the sock between two of his fingers and tugged ever so softly. They both watched hypnotically as, which tauntingly slow tenderness, Remy pulled off the first sock. He set it down on the floor beside him, let her leg drop slowly, and lifted the other.

He repeated the process with the other sock. Rogue wasn't sure why—what with Remy having the weird sock kink, not her—but the whole experience felt rather…sensual. She wasn't sure why.

They were just socks.

But to Remy, they seemed to mean so much more. Which is why, when both the socks were removed, Rogue felt naked. Which was weird considering, even without her knee high socks, she was still very much clothed. And yet the way his eyes stared at her legs so…wantonly made Rogue feel very exposed.

Something must be wrong with him. Because her legs were scratched, pale, and even a little bloody. Far from sexy. In fact, she felt somewhat self-conscious about her legs. They were freakishly pale and in comparison to Remy's tanned skin, she would look like she hadn't stepped into the sunlight.

Rogue felt like she belonged in the pages of a _Twilight _novel, her skin was so pale.

But Remy lifted his eyes to hers and they were far from repulsed. He held her gaze for a very long time. His eyes were burning with passion.

Yeah, no. She totally wasn't getting to sleep tonight.

He touched her foot. In her opinion, Rogue felt like she had ugly feet. They were a touch large for a girl. Her arches were really high too, which she felt was unusual. But his fingers slowly brushed against her foot, sending shivers from the tips of her toes to the roots of her hair.

Dear god, and he was only touching her _foot_.

She noticed that he was noticing her red nail polish. She blushed, remembering how she thought of him when Kitty painted them. Now they were chipped and ruined. She was embarrassed. She imagined Remy thought her sorry excuse for painted nails were silly. But, oddly enough, he didn't seem to mind.

He almost seemed to kind of like it.

His hand traveled upward to her ankles, still very gentle. Past her ankle to her calves. Past her calves to her to her bruised, bloody knees. He was so soft with her, it didn't even hurt when his fingers skimmed the cuts on her knees.

It was odd. Remy LeBeau—prince of thieves, Cajun Casanova, teller of dirty jokes, X-Man who spewed an infinite amount of innuendos, and man known for his devilish smiles—was surprisingly warm and tender. He touched her like she was as fragile and delicate as a piece of glass. Rogue had never been handled with such care.

She decided that she rather liked the feeling.

Then his hands then made their way up to her thighs. She didn't know her skin could be so sensitive to another's touch. It shocked her so thoroughly, she accidentally let out a small gasp. Remy looked up when she did.

She saw, in those red and black eyes, a question. Clearly, despite the fact he was wanting to go father, he was willing to stop if she so desired. The question was whether or not she wanted him to stop.

His stupid, skilled, thieving hands made it really hard for Rogue to remember to speak. So she hoped that whatever answer he was in search of could be found in her eyes.

The answer, by the way, was a "hell yes." She just couldn't remember how to say it. Or how to think. Hell, at this point, Remy LeBeau was making breathing a difficult process for Rogue.

Stupid Cajun.

Remy proceeded upward. Rogue scooted farther back on the bed. The intention was to put more distance between their bodies but she belatedly realized this was probably only more advantageous for Remy than her. Because the farther back on the bed she was, the easier it would be for them to lie down.

He chuckled and she felt like a silly girl.

Eventually, her back all but thumped against her headboard.

Then he stood up. He placed his knee on the bed.

He moved forward.

And she let him.

He crawled up the length of her body, his eyes hot on her flesh. Rogue was afraid of the newness of the whole situation. Especially by how quickly things escalated. And still she couldn't find herself wanting to stop. In fact, her back was already arching just slightly. He hadn't even touched her yet. Hadn't even closed the space between their bodies.

She couldn't wait to see what she did when he did.

Stupid Cajun.

What really surprised Rogue was what happened when his face was level with hers. Instead of diving in for the kiss they both were clearly craving, he paused for what felt like an eternity. It wasn't lust or desire or want. It was…affection.

But not the kind of affection anyone had ever looked at her with before. It was the kind of affection that was burning her to her core. It was something so powerful, it excited and terrified her all at once. Then a slow smile curved along his lips.

"Hey, Roguey," he whispered.

She made a little noise. An odd mix between a growl and a moan.

"I would like to further discuss these enthrallin' little socks of yours," he murmured as his lips descended upon hers.

When his mouth found hers, when he finally kissed her, Rogue couldn't help but smile inwardly.

He tasted like chocolate.

XXXXX

Well.

Remy LeBeau was surprised. But pleasantly so.

For a girl who had probably only kissed one person in her whole life (and yes, it was him. It didn't matter that she was under mind control, it _totally_ counted), Rogue seemed to know what she was doing.

Really. The girl had talent.

But maybe it wasn't talent. Maybe it was some weird, electrical, spark, romantic mumbo-jumbo passing between them that made every touch, every kiss, every moment a thousand times better.

Whatever. It didn't matter.

All that mattered was that the moment Remy LeBeau had been envisaging and day dreaming and fantasizing about was happening right now. _And _knee high socks were involved?

And who said good things didn't happen to good people.

Then Remy remembered he wasn't what people would classify as a "good" person but whatever.

He was kissing Rogue.

And Rogue was kissing him back. And she wasn't just kissing. She was arching against him. She was closing the little space between their bodies until Remy was certain that even a piece of paper couldn't fit between them. And she was being incredibly open. And she was tangling her fingers in his hair. That felt really nice when she did that.

She was clinging to his shoulders. She was trembling against him but that didn't appear to be a deterrent. He was probably shaking too. His heart was beating really fast and his breathing was very erratic but he just couldn't find him caring. He just wanted to kiss her more and more. He wanted to pull her as close as possible until they were one and there was no space between them and he wouldn't ever have to let her go.

Remy was _so _glad he paid Kitty thirty dollars to fake an injury so he and Rogue could have some alone time. Worth. Every. Penny.

Even though he had been gentle with her when it came to touching her endlessly long legs, he did not show any mercy when it came to their kiss. He demanded. And she gave into his demands and demanded things right back. And whatever she didn't give, he took. And she let him.

He kissed Rogue fiercely and Rogue kissed him with equal zeal right back. They were giving and taking and responding. They were on the same page.

And oh, it was a sexy page to be on.

Remy dared to let his hands travel down to her shoulders. Down to her arms. He dared to let his fingers explore the forbidden skin at her sides that was revealed when her night shirt was hiked up just so. She let him. He massaged her and she moaned softly in his mouth.

Dear god, the woman would be the death of him.

Rogue's fingers did their own little exploration too. She squeezed them between their bodies so she could caress his chest, then his stomach.

He felt very smug when she did that.

But, oddly enough, there was something Remy wanted to say more than anything else. It had nothing to do with chocolate. Or motorcycles. Or nudity. Or socks. Or sex. Or any of Remy LeBeau's typical thoughts.

He managed to pry his mouth from hers. She opened her eyes and looked up at him heatedly.

"_Cherie_," he murmured throatily, "you got beautiful eyes."

She smiled softly.

Then, she tilted her head to the side, a frown puckering her brow. "Did you hear that?"

Silly girl. He couldn't hear anything over the sound of his own heart ponding in his ears.

"Nope. Wanna make out some more?"

"Shh. Listen."

He did and he heard the vague sound of a gruff voice calling out "Stripes" repeatedly.

"Oh, shit!" Rogue whispered, twisting. She violently threw Remy to the ground. He swore in French when his head hit the ground with a painful thud.

"What the hell, Roguey?"

"Logan's comin'! Get under the bed!"

Remy didn't need to be told twice. Remy rolled under her bed, just as Logan pounded on the door. He could only listen and try to remain as quiet as possible. He heard Rogue roll off the bed and moments later, open the door.

"Hey, Logan," she said casually. Remy was impressed. She sounded completely unaffected after their little kiss. He pouted.

He would just have to try harder next time.

Logan didn't respond for a very long time. "Hey."

"Did you need somethin'?"

"Kurt said he saw Gumbo headed this way. You haven't seen him, have you?"

She hesitated just slightly. "Nope."

"Ah." He heard Wolverine sniff the air. "Then I guess I'll just head to bed."

"Okay."

"Goodnight, Stripes."

"'Night, Logan."

He heard Wolverine's retreating footsteps. Just when Remy was sure he was in the clear, he heard Logan stop.

"Oh. And Gumbo?"

Remy's heart sank. He remained silent.

"Gumbo," Logan said, his voice eerily calm. "I can smell you."

"Uh…hey, Wolvie."

"It should take you four seconds to cross from here to that door. I'll give you two."**

"Okay, Wolvie."

"And if I ever catch you in here again, you'll be the last of your genetic line."

He sighed. "Okay, Wolvie."

Dejectedly, Remy rolled from beneath Rogue's bed. She stood off to the side, her gaze pointedly fixed on the floor and her cheeks flaming red. Logan stood in the doorway. He didn't look pissed, per se. But there was clearly a storm brewing behind his eyes.

Remy LeBeau was never so stupid that he would push his luck that far. So he walked out the room. He had no intention of looking behind him. But then Rogue called after him.

"Oh, Remy," she said demurely. She batted her eyelashes in the same manner she had in the garage that day.

"Yes, Roguey?"

"'Member how I got a good look into Emmy's mind tonight?"

"_Oui_."

"Well, I can tell you now for a fact." Rogue winked. "They're fake."

Then she quietly closed the door. Remy blinked in shock. For some reason, that cheeky little look and the passionate kiss they shared made him realize something.

Mother Mary and Joseph, Remy LeBeau was in _love_.

**XXXXX**

****how many of you can identify Wolvie's quote? It's from my favoritist movie of all time. If not, you'll know when I post it in the next chapter. **

**Next chappie should be up soon. Until then, can't wait for your reviews. Much love!**

**-M.A.**


	14. The Plan

**This is gonna be a short chapter. Something I typed before I dash off to work. It's short but necessary so I hope y'all enjoy. I'll probably have updated again tonight. Really late tonight. **

**BlueFox: the line sounds familiar to me too but I never can place where I heard it originally.**

**MidniteAngelGoth: wow. Thank you so much. That was just...wow. Really nice. **

**annacat: ding, ding, ding, ding! We have a winner! **

**You guys are amazing. Awesome just doesn't cover it anymore. So thank you so much for all your reviews.**

**And finally, where the quote is from: Breakfast at Tiffany's, starring the fabulous Audrey Hepburn. It's actually an odd mental image. Big and angry Wolverine quoting the itty bitty and very pretty Audrey Hepburn... Suddenly, I picture him wearing the little black dress and pearls Audrey Hepburn wore at the beginning of the movie. Which is a REALLY weird mental image. Not as bad as Remy in a speedo. Not as funny as Wolvie in a tutu. But I think it trumps Remy dressed as Steve Urkel.**

**Anyway...**

**XXXXX**

"So what's the plan?"

The Professor looked at the room filled with his best X-Men. Emma was among them. Not because he particularly trusted her but because she was trying to prove her worth and had information of great value. So she was permitted to join their meeting, though clearly her teammates were unhappy about it.

Except for Rogue and Remy. They seemed rather distracted.

The Professor rolled his eyes.

Teenagers.

"Last night, after the attack, Logan and I held one of the intruders here for questioning. He was reluctant, but we managed to gather some information from him."

"Omigod, did you torture him?"

"No, Kitty, there was no torture involved."

"Were their threats? I bet there were threats."

Charles cleared his throat. "Logan was there to offer…his own form of persuasion. But eventually I was given permission to look into his mind. And from what I've seen, it appears that Jean and Rogue were not the Hellfire Club's only target. Nor are they the first."

"What? How is it some _flunky_ knew more about this than _I_ did? I was supposed to be the….oh. Right. Nevermind that. You were saying, Professor?"

"The Club is looking to gain power—"

"Told you, Roguey."

Rogue blushed. "Don't interrupt. And don't talk to me."

"—by gathering strong mutants for their own personal use. They plan on using these mutants' powers to help them attain the wealth, influence, and power they desire. But it appears they plan on getting these powerful mutants by any means."

"But how do they plan on making the mutants corporate?"

"Threats," Emma explained. "Or, if necessary, blackmail. Currently, they have a telepath among them who is manipulating the minds of some mutants to make them _want _to be apart of the Club. I can't say this for sure, but I am under the impression that she is only a temporary member."

"Why do you say that?"

"She is baldly miserable there. Hostile. Angry. I believe they have something of hers that is of great value." Emma looked down at her lap. "I believe Jean and I were supposed to be her replacements."

Jean growled but said nothing.

"So," Charles went on before _another _fight could occur, "our plan is to break in and remove the mutants being held their by force before the Hellfire Club can do any harm to them and the general public."

"They also have a database full of information on mutants throughout the country that they have their sights on," Logan added, looking bored. "So we gotta get in there and destroy that too."

"So let me get this straight," Kurt said. "We have to break into the Club, fight through the minions _again_, free the prisoners, _and_ destroy the database?"

Logan smiled bitterly. "Nope. We also have the Inner Circle of the Club to deal with. Which means we'll have to fight our way through…how many people was it again, Frosty?"

"Three," she said softly, the guilt gnawing away at her once more. "Plus the telepath, so that's four."

"Charlie, how 'sactly you 'spect us to get through all them people and still find time to break their toys and capture their flags?"

"Misdirection," Charles said smiling faintly. "The idea is to have Emma and Rogue go into the Club under the guise of Rogue wanting to join. But in the midst of their meeting, Rogue and Emma will intentionally allow their cover to be blown. At which point, they will be taken to—"

"And then they'll take Emma and Rogue to the holding cells with the other captured mutants," Scott said with understanding.

"Pretty sneaky, Professor."

"Thank you, Kitty."

"But how will Rogue and Emma get out of the cells?"

"Yeah. How will they?

"Good question. How?"

"Well, that's where Gambit will get involved. Thanks to his…" Charles cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Prior experience before he joined the X-Men, he has the…knowledge and capability to infiltrate the Club, get to holding area, release Emma and Rogue before freeing the others prisoners."

"You mean Remy gets to do a breakin' and enterin'?" the Cajun asked, his eyes lighting up with childlike excitement.

"No. You are going to _infiltrate _the Club."

"Ohhhhhhhh." Remy nudged Kitty, winking at her. "It's a breakin' and enterin'."

She giggled.

"Anyway," Charles called out, trying to get his X-Men's attention once more, "Remy, Rogue and Emma will free the prisoners while the rest of the team will focus on fighting their way through the Club to the database."

"Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait."

"Yes?"

"I assume that when Rogue and Emma are 'caught', all forms of communication will be taken from them, right?"

"Correct."

"If they can't communicate with us, how is Gambit supposed to know where they're being held?"

Rogue tapped her forehead, grinning broadly. "Telepathic link. 'Parently, I can do more than just control my powers. If I concentrate very hard, I can even tap into some of past powers I absorbed. All I need is to absorb a little bit of a telepath before I go to make it easier on me and I can set up a mental link with Rems." Rogue looked meaningfully at Jean. "I just need a willing telepath…."

"Yeah." Jean shrugged. "No problem."

"Aw, Roguey, you jus' wanna take a peek in ol' Remy's head. You're more than welcome too. You'll jus' see some Poker playin' techniques and a some interestin' imagery involvin' you and chocolate."

"Remy!"

"Gumbo!"

"Yes, Wolvie?"

"We're in a meeting! Save it for later."

"Here that, Roguey? Wolvie says we can have fun later."

"Dammit, Gumbo! You know what I meant. And stop callin' me Wolvie."

"Can Roguey and I still have fun later?"

"No!" both Rogue and Logan said in unison.

Remy smiled innocently.

"Um….can we please get back to the plan?"

"Oh. Sorry Professor."

"So let me see if I got the gist of this: Rogue and Emma go in pretending they want to join the Club, right?"

"Correct."

"Rogue and Emma purposely have their cover blown so they're taken to the holding area with the other prisoners, right?"

"Correct."

"But the whole time, Rogue has a telepathic instant messaging system set up with Gambit so he's able to keep track of their location, right?"

"Correct."

"Gambit finds Rogue and Emma, frees them, and saves the prisoners, right?"

"Correct."

"Meanwhile, the rest of the team fights their way through the Club to get to their mutant database, destroy it, before hightailing it out of there, right?"

"Correct."

"Sounds fun."

"But how are we supposed to know this isn't a part of Emma's plan?" Jean challenged. "Maybe everything—even her unlocking Rogue's powers—is an elaborate plan to get the X-Men in the Club. We could be walking right into a trap."

"We considered that Jean. But Emma wants to join the X-Men." He looked at the blonde, his gaze steady and significant. "For real this time. Perhaps all of what she has done_ is_ an elaborate plan. But this will be her test. Her chance to prove her trustworthiness."

"That's a pretty big gamble, Charlie."

"Indeed it is, Gambit. But what is it the people of your profession say?" Charles smiled. "'Go big or go home.'"

**XXXXX**

**Will update soon. Later tonight. So be on the look out. Until then...**

**-M.A.**


	15. The Confessions

**So…this chapter would have been up a lot sooner if it weren't for the fact that my attention span, which is freakishly short, got the best of me. But I'm here. With a new chapter. **

**Chellerbelle: thanks for ALL the reviews.**

**BlueFox: part of my distraction today was due to me drawing a VERY rough draft of Urkel Remy.**

**Ace-of-Cyberspace: I meant to say this earlier, but thank you so much for the recommendation. **

**Everyone else, I wanna thank you all individually. All of you. But I want to hurry and post this chapter for you. So, without further ado….**

**XXXXX**

Rogue was totally avoiding Remy.

Why?

It would be assumed that after their heated kiss the night before that it sealed the deal on the relationship Remy had been so adamantly pursuing. But that expression about "when you assume" existed for a reason.

If she was asked why she kissed Remy in the first place, she would claim that her judgment was clouded by the prospect of muscles. Touching muscles. And lips. Kissing lips. She had just gained the ability to control her powers and then he walks in like "Oh, hi, you can touch and I'm very touchable." She would have done the same thing if Bobby walked in the room shirtless.

Eww. Okay. Maybe not Bobby.

Whatever.

Remy LeBeau walked in her room with a tempting offer, distracting muscles, and naughty smiles. Having been in control of her powers for less than five hours, Rogue cannot be blamed for jumping the first delicious body that swaggered into her room, could she? No.

And well, if that tempting body happened to belong to Remy LeBeau, so be it.

But she figured he would probably think that their one, marvelous kiss would mean he could just start kissing her like that all the time. And holding her hand. Being affectionate and couple-y in general. She didn't have the heart to tell him otherwise. Not to mention, she was a little embarrassed about how out of control things go the night before.

But then there was the way he looked at her. With that warmth that was so intense, it thrilled and chilled her all at once. No one had ever looked at her like that. And when Remy gave her that look, it made her feel like he wasn't just looking at her like she was just some girl to kiss. He looked at her like she was different. And special. Like she was of significant value.

But not to the world. He didn't look at her like she was the Hope Diamond. Something sparkly that everyone marveled at. He looked at her like she was an emerald. Something he unearthed. Something he personally treasured.

Being looked at like that was…overwhelming.

So Rogue was avoiding the Cajun at all costs. If she wasn't near him, he wouldn't be able to kiss her. Or look at her in a way that made everything else in the world melt away until it was only them. Cause when it was only them, there was nothing to anchor her. And in the anchorless world of Remy and Rogue, she sometimes felt something strong brewing in her heart. Something that she had been trying to avoid because she felt it might have been the same something strong brewing in his heart. That thing that compelled him to look at her like she was his own personal emerald.

It wasn't like he had a lot of time to pester her. Everyone was gearing up for the Hellfire Club infiltration. There was no time for flirtations. The most contact they would have before they left would be when Rogue set up their telepathic link.

There was no way he could corner between then and now.

This was Rogue's last thought before a hand reached out and dragged her into a room, closing and locking the door behind her.

She should have known better.

XXXXX

As Scott walked forward, he imagined his funeral. It would probably be a nice funeral. People would cry. He would be missed. Which made him feel a little better. But that did nothing to assuage his uneasiness about his impending death. And why, one might wonder, would Scott Summers be so concerned about dying at such an early age?

Because he was going to tell Jean Grey about the kiss he and Emma Frost shared. And when Jean found out, she would kill him.

Fact: Scott Summers was a dead man.

He knew it would be best to tell Jean after the mission. She needed to concentrate. She shouldn't be distracted with romantic affairs. But in light of Emma's betrayal, his secret had been eating away at him. And, if the mission went according to plan, then Emma would be joining the X-Men for real. He didn't want his secret to weigh on his heart when both women lived in the same house.

He had to tell Jean. Now.

It wasn't hard to find her. She was just leaving the locker room, her black and green uniform and "concentrating" face on. When she saw him, she didn't exactly look thrilled. She hadn't been thrilled to see him since that first day with Emma Frost. Sometimes, on a very good day, she smiled and kissed his face and it was normal. But lately, it was mostly a look of hostile recognition.

Seeing that face, rather than the love that was normally in her vibrant eyes, tore Scott's heart out.

"Jean."

She lifted an eyebrow.

"Can I talk to you?"

She stared at him before finally shrugging. "Sure. What is it?"

"It's kind of important." He took her by the shoulders and pulled her into a secluded corner. Jean's brows pulled together when she saw the look on her boyfriend's face. Her heart sank. "I know the timing is bad but…."

"Scott, is something wrong?"

He didn't answer for a very long time. His eyes were fixated on a point just beyond Jean's head. He wouldn't look her in the eye for a very long time. And after several seconds of silence, he made no attempt to answer her.

"Scott," Jean repeated, her voice more firm. "Is something wrong?"

"Yes," he responded at last. His voice was far too low for her liking.

"Scott, look at me."

Reluctantly, he did. Jean did not look mad. She looked concerned, almost terrified. She seemed to be under the impression that something not of his own doing had happened. Something he didn't bring upon himself. Something that wouldn't break her beautiful heart.

It made what Scott was about to do that much harder. His hold on Jean's shoulders tightened. He knew when she found out, she would reject his touch. He wanted to hold onto her for as long as possible, while there was still time.

"Scott, what happened?"

He was silent.

"Scott, did you do something?"

"Yes."

"What happened?"

He remained quiet. He watched as the concern on her face morphed into confusion. She seemed to be thinking it over. He could see the gears in her brain turning. And then it clicked. Confusion melted away, only to be replaced with understanding. Jean's expression became blank and unreadable. But her eyes were on fire with her revelation.

The vehemence contained behind those flaming eyes was enough to send any man to his grave.

"It's Emma." When she said it, it was not a question. It also was utterly devoid of all emotion.

Scott swore he could see the moment when the love faded from her eyes.

"Yeah," he answered after an eternity.

Her jaw tightened but she said nothing else.

XXXXX

Well, it was no easy task but Remy finally got a moment alone with Rogue. Did it involve stalking her throughout the mansion until she was completely alone before dragging her into the nearest closet? Yes.

Did he care?

Nope.

After the door was securely locked, Remy turned so he was facing Rogue. He could see her fairly well, what with his odd eyes offering him better night vision than most. But he decided to be fair to the woman who had apparently stolen his heart and turned on the light. It offered minimal lighting to the room. Remy found the limited light and cast shadows rather romantic.

If it weren't for the fact they were in a closet but he didn't think that little detail was all that important.

"Hi, Roguey."

She made a show of looking unaffected by his presence. Maybe two days ago he would have bought her little show. But not after last night. She couldn't fake that kind of reaction. Whatever she felt for him, even if it was just physical—and he _really _hoped it wasn't just physical—she couldn't deny it now.

"Is this really necessary?" she snorted, her eyes scanning the cramped space in the closet.

Remy reached out to her. She took a small step back. "You tell me, _Cherie_."

"I don't know what you're talkin' 'bout, Gambit."

He clicked his tongue at her. "Please, Roguey. We long ago were on a first name basis."

Faster than you can say "Wolverine in a pink tutu"**, Remy had grabbed Rogue and swung her around so her back was pressed against the door. With her trapped, he closed the space between their bodies by pressing his as close to hers as possible. She gasped softly at the contact. He liked it.

"So please," he rumbled, rubbing his nose against hers, "call me, Remy."

She whimpered softly before she finally managed to find her words. "What do you want…Remy?"

"I jus' wanted to talk," he said truthfully, leaning down so he could bury his nose into the crook of her neck. She seemed to like the contact. He nuzzled her, breathing in her enchanting scent. She smelled like apples, something that never failed to baffle him. "You smell nice."

"Is that what you wanted to talk about?" she inquired, her voice shaking. Remy was pleased to know he could rouse such a reaction from her.

"_Non_, not in particular. But if you wanna talk 'bout it, that's a-okay in ol' Remy's books."

"What do you wanna talk about, Remy?"

"Why you been avoidin' me."

"I haven't been avoidin' you."

He pressed a kiss to the hollow below her ear. "Aw, _Cherie_, maybe everyone else would believe that lie but I know you better than that. Your poker face ain't so good wit' me."

He circled his arms around her waist.

"Now," he continued as his fingers eased their way up so they brushed the skin beneath her blouse, "as a man who made a career of avoidin' things—like law enforcement—I can tell when someone is avoidin' me. What I don' understand is why that someone is the very same woman with whom I shared a very passionate kiss wit' only last night."

His lips drifted down to the bend in her neck. He felt her legs shake.

"I don' bite, Roguey."

He let his mouth drift back upward until he was breathing on her ear. "Unless you want me to bite. Then I'll bite 'til you beg me to stop." He let his teeth sink down on her earlobe softly. She moaned, her body sagging against him. As much as he would have liked to give that earlobe more attention, he was trying to have a conversation.

"Why are you avoidin' me, Rogue?"

"You make…" She drew in a breath. "Just because I can touch doesn't mean you have to be all up on me."

"So?"

"So is the only reason you're pursuin' me is 'cause I can touch now?"

He lifted his head to look into her eyes quite seriously. "I've been chasin' you since before you knew you were bein' chased. Don' insult me now, Rogue." But, to make her feel a little better, he put some distance between their bodies. Just enough so that they weren't touching, His hand moved from where they were on her body to rest on the door on either side of her hips. Not one inch of them was touching.

But Remy didn't need to touch her to get his point across.

"Is this better?"

She made an odd face. "Marginally."

"We ain't touchin'."

"Barely," she pointed out.

"Better than nothin'."

"I guess."

"Why were you avoidin' me?"

For a long moment, it looked like she wasn't going to say anything. "Because…after last night…I knew you would do somethin' like this."

"Lock you in cramped closet wit' me?"

"Don't be dense," she snapped with some of her sincere angry Gothiness. "I meant get all…touchy with me."

"You can control your powers. Why wouldn' we wanna get touchy? In fact, to me, now seems as good a time as any to get touchy. The ideal time actually."

"Exactly. You would wanna touch and it would make me…."

She trailed off, her cheeks burning red. It made Remy chuckle, seeing his Rogue so shy. Never, in all the time he had known her, did Remy ever think he would see her acting _shy_.

"What would it make you, _Cherie_?"

"It makes me confused."

"Confused how?"

"I don't know."

"Yes, you do."

"No, I don't."

"Yes, you do."

"No, I don't."

"_Oui, _you do."

"No, I don't."

"_Oui, _you do."

"No, I don't."

"_Non,_ you don'."

"Yes, I do."

"_Non_, you don'."

"Yes, I do!"

"Okay, okay, okay. You do."

Rogue frowned. It took her a moment before she caught on. When she did, she punched him in the shoulder.

"You Bugs Bunnied me!" She punched him again. "Stupid Swamp Rat."

He tipped his head back and laughed at her. She was such a delight.

"I did Bugs Bunny you," he conceded, smiling at her dark glower. "Because of this, will you please tell how me touchin' you makes you confused?"

She dropped her head so she could avoid his gaze. Remy ducked his head down so he could look up at her with his puppy dog eyes.

"Please," he whispered.

He watched her shoulders drop with defeat. But she refused to make direct eye contact.

"It makes me confused 'cause you kiss me all…."

"Passionately?"

"I guess. And not just like you're kissin' any old girl. You kiss me like I'm special. I don't know." She shrugged. "Maybe it's a technique you perfected over the years or somethin' but it feels really real to me."

"It is, real, _mon Coeur_." He lifted his hand to touch her but dropped when he remembered she didn't want him to touch her.

Not yet anyway.

"You are special, Rogue."

"See!" she barked accusatorially. Remy blinked in confusion. "That's it right there! You kiss me all passionately and make my body act funny and then you say nice things!"

"…is that bad?"

"YES. Because you're Remy. You're Gambit. You're the 'Cajun Casanova'. You can't talk 'bout how you like sex one minute—"

"Well, I _do _like sex."

"—and then be all romantic and sweet the next. It confuses a girl." She huffed. "Then you look at me like…"

"Like what?"

"Like everythin' is okay. More than okay. Like everythin' is…."

"Perfect?"

"…yeah."

Geez, was he _that_ obvious?

"I just don't understand how the same Remy LeBeau who has some weird, screwed up fantasy involving chocolate and socks is the same guy who looks at me like I'm his own personal emerald. It confuses me. I don't get it."

An emerald. Yes. That's just what she was to him.

She was his very own emerald.

Remy LeBeau did not touch her because he respected her wishes. But he did lean in until their lips were just a whisper apart. She tilted her chin up just slightly, wanting and expecting his kiss. But he didn't kiss her. He wanted to but the next time they kissed, she wouldn't be confused. She would want it. She would kiss him.

He hoped her confusion cleared up very soon.

"The reason for me lookin' at you like you make my world right, _mon Cherie_ is for the simple reason you do make everythin' perfect for me. I kiss you like that 'cause that's how you make me feel. Roguey, you silly woman…."

Something in his voice seemed to compel her to look up into his face. When she did, Remy LeBeau said something he hadn't planned on saying to any woman, especially not in a far-from-spacious closet. But he said it because it was how he felt.

"I love you."

She drew in a sharp breath but said nothing. Remy saw the words on her lips aching to come out. He wasn't expecting her to reciprocate his sentiment. But he was burning with the desire to know what she was going to say. But Remy LeBeau would not find out.

Because _someone _had to ruin the moment by pounding on the closet door.

"GAMBIT! ROGUE! I know you two are in there. Now get the hell out before I BREAK THE DAMN DOOR DOWN!"

Remy growled. "We'll be right out, Wolvie. Jus' finishin' up."

Rogue groaned, slamming her head against the back of the door in frustration. "Remy…."

"I don' think you moanin' my name and thumpin' 'ginst the door is gonna be very advantageous to this situation."

"GAMBIT! ROGUE! NOW!"

Remy laughed faintly at the unfortunate twist of fate. But he mustered a tiny smile for the woman who had stolen his heart.

"Come on, Roguey. We got some breakin' and enterin' to do."

"_Infiltration_, Remy."

"You can sprinkle sugar all over it all you want, but that don' change what it really is."

"GRRRRRR! GET OUT HERE NOW!"

"We better get outta here 'fore ol' Wolvie shits a brick."

"Probably."

"Can I hold your hand?" he asked nervously, feeling like a stupid teenager.

Rogue blushed, but smiled. "Yeah. You can hold my hand."

XXXXX

"Jean, aren't you going to even let me explain what happened?"

"Something happened?"

"Yes."

"Then there's nothing else I need to know."

"Jean."

Scott placed his hand on her shoulder, trying to make her stop her hasty retreat. His touch was enough to make Jean spin around on her heel and face the man who broke her heart.

"You _do not _get to touch me."

"Jean…"

"And stop saying my name."

"I'm sorry."

"I don't care."

"I swear, I didn't mean for it to happen."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

"Jean—"

"Stop saying my name!" she hollered, her voice going shrill. "That _woman _came in here and in no time, you were staring at her. Now you tell me that somewhere in between her feeding secrets to the Hellfire Club and arranging my kidnapping, you managed to cheat on me with her? You kept it a secret. You lied to me when all I've ever been to you is loyal. I don't know what hurts more. The treachery or who you did it with."

"Jean—"

"DO NOT SAY MY NAME!"

"It was just a kiss!" he pleaded desperately.

"I don't care! It's not just a kiss to me. It's the end."

"…the end of what?"

"You figure that out, Scott." She turned and headed in the direction of the Blackbird. "In the meantime, I've got a job to do."

**XXXXX**

****A quote via Indy, which was a reference to my other story, Story Time With Remy LeBeau. Thanks Indy!**

**Will update soon. Need sleep. And Hugh Jackman. But then again, when **_**don't **_**I need some Hugh in my life….**

**-M.A.**


	16. The Infiltration

**Haha. I love how everyone talked about the "end" of Scott and Jean's relationship than the whole "I love you" thing. You guys are so awesome. **

**ElvenMuggle: I'm so glad you're back. We missed you 'round here.**

**BlueFox: you are more than welcome to ramble at me all you want. **

**ALLREMS: why thank you. You are quite fabulous. **

**Plum Tree: You make a good point. Emma and Scott need a good "couple name". **

**Ace: thank you!**

**Indy: only crazy people think they don't need Hugh Jackman in their life. Personally, I think I need more. A lot more. I don't think I can ever get too much. **

**Anyway, in regards to the "end" of Scott and Jean, don't worry yet guys. I still have stuff up my sleeve for those two. And Emma. So stayed tuned!**

**XXXXX**

It was incredibly hard to focus on infiltrating the Hellfire Club when sharing a telepathic link with Remy LeBeau.

But honestly, Rogue wasn't surprised by this. She was thankful, at least, that he didn't even mention the whole "I love you" thing. In fact, after they stepped out the closet hand–in-hand, Remy had gone about like it never happened. She assumed because he was trying to mindful of the fact she was probably freaking out. So that was nice of him.

And at least they had the mission to make them focus.

That didn't completely stop Remy from adding unnecessary commentary but at least he wasn't talking about love anymore.

She remembered the notes he had given her. What sort of information and mental images she should send to him so he would have an easier time infiltrating the Hellfire mansion.

_A_nd _by infiltrate, you mean breakin' and enterin', right?_

_ Stay outta my head and shut up._

_ Silly River Rat. In case you forgot, I can't stay outta your head right now, 'member? And secondly, I ain't talkin'. I'm actually completely silent where I'm hidin'. I'm jus' thinkin' and you happen to be able to hear these thoughts._

_ Whatever. Just keep quiet so I can think._

_ If it'll help you think, you can imagine me naked._

_ How is that supposed to help me think? That's gross._

_ I don' know how it's s'posed to help you think. I jus' like the thought of you thinkin' of me wit'out clothes. _He paused. _'Parently, so do you. 'Cause you jus' thought of it._

_ I did not!_

_ You did, Cherie. Jus' for one teeny tiny second._

_ How would you know?_

_ Telepathic link._

_ Oh. Yeah._

_ You thought of me naked. _

_ Not naked. Jut shirtless. _

_ Half naked. _

_ It was just a torso!_

_ Ah, but what a nice torsos I have. Oh. Now Frosty is mentally projectin' to me. She says I gotta stop distractin' you._

_ Thank god._

_ Don' worry, Roguey. We'll finish talkin' later. Maybe in a closet…_

She wasn't sure if it was possible, but she thought she could hear Remy's laughter in her head. Is it possible for someone to mentally laugh? She didn't know. Instead, she tried to focus on her task.

She and Emma were walking up the front gates of the Hellfire Club mansion. It was almost as big as the Professor's. It was more extravagant, but in an old fashion "look at us, we're fancy" kind of way.

Rogue's eyes scanned the grounds for video cameras. And just like Remy told her, there were several located right at the front entrance. One by the gate, another in a tree, and two located on either side of the front door.

_You gettin' that, Swamp Rat?_

_ Oui. I see it. Jus' keep your eyes open for more._

_ Gotcha. _

Emma got them through the front door. Rogue was expecting a long walk down lavish corridors before she met the infamous Inner Circle. But they were already waiting for them in the foyer. They looked excited and expectant.

Her eyes were drawn to the woman with dark black hair instantly. She was an attractive woman, with an air of mystique about her. The smile that curved her lips made Rogue fight to suppress a chill. She looked as if she were very much aware of her wealth and beauty and felt positively smug about it.

And she wanted everyone to know.

_Told you they make the women wear __**scandalous **__outfits._

_ No kidding. _

She was squeezed into a tiny, black leather dress with matching opera length black gloves and thigh high boots. There were things left to the imagination.

But not much.

"Emma," the dark haired woman cooed, stepping forward. She took the blondes hands in her own. "How wonderful it is to see you. And look." She looked at Rogue, brown eyes hungry. "You brought us a present."

Rogue smiled at the woman, her stomach churning. "Hello."

"You must be the X-Men's little Rogue." She released Emma in favor of taking Rogue's hands into her own with uncomfortable familiarity. "I'm Selene."

"Nice to meet you."

"Come now, you'll have to meet the others."

Selene dragged Rogue over to the two men in the room. They both wore suits that were clearly expensive but fashioned in a vintage style.

_ Please. I've worn a suit much fancier than that._

_ Oh, really? _Rogue challenged. _To where?_

_ Err…I'll tell you later._

Rouge returned her attention to the men Selene was introducing her to. The one who appeared to be the leader reminded her of a monkey with a receding hairline. Really. That was her first thought. His facial features were similar to those of a monkey's with dark hair. He had to have had one of the weirdest beard-sideburn things Rogue had ever seen. In her head, Remy snorted.

_I agree wit' you there, Roguey._

"This," Selene said, her voice dripping with sugar sweet venom. "Is Sebastian Shaw, the leader of our little club."

Shaw inclined his head toward Rogue. "Charmed."

"And this is Donald Pierce."

Pierce, with his blond hair and sharp features, could have been an attractive fellow if it weren't for his almost soulless eyes. He stared at Rogue, with sinister interest. She suppressed a shiver and instead forced a smile in his direction. She offered him her gloved hand.

"Hello, Mister Pierce."

He took her hand. Rogue was able to keep her uneasiness about the Inner Circle hidden but when Pierce revealed that a robotic hand, she gasped softly. He smiled at her surprise before lifting her hand to his lips, pressing a lingering kiss to the back of her hand.

"Hello, Rogue. So glad that you have decided to join us."

She retracted her hand, perhaps a little too quickly. If Pierce noticed her discomfort, he did not let it show. Instead, he turned his head in the direction of the only other woman in the room. She was dressed far more modestly than Selene and looked absolutely pissed. Rogue assumed that she was the telepath that the Club was forcing to do some of their handy work.

She was an attractive woman. Features that any model would kill for. Her eyes, which were a striking violet, examined Rogue from across the room with tangible distaste and distrust. What struck Rogue the most about the woman was not her resentment or violet eyes or beautiful features, but instead her purple hair that flowed down the length of her back.

"This is our…assistant, Betsy," Pierce explained, his voice void of any emotion. "She's just a temporary member, though. Isn't that right, Betsy?"

Betsy merely narrowed her eyes.

Shaw pressed his hand to Rogue and Emma's lower back, encouraging them to follow his lead down the halls of the Club. The ease in which he touched both the women once again made Rogue terribly uncomfortable. Then, as if they had planned it, Pierce and Selene appeared at their sides, gliding into their positions almost naturally. Rogue glanced over her shoulder and found Betsy directly behind her.

She was completely surrounded.

"So, Rogue," Shaw began conversationally, the hand on her back still quite firm. "What made you decide to join us?"

"Emma was able to help me gain control of my powers," she answered easily, waving her hand airily. "She said that it was just the beginnin' and that you guys could offer me so much more than what the X-Men were."

"Indeed we can."

"Did you grow tired of walking with the angels, Rogue?" Selene asked. For some reason, Selene made her the most uncomfortable. Perhaps it was because it was how friendly she was being. But Rogue was under the impression it was not because she wanted people to believe she was a kindhearted woman. The darkness within her was lurking just beneath the surface. Every smile and every friendly question had the undertone of a threat.

"Yeah," the Goth answered with a nonchalant shrug. "I got sick of angels. I want to play with fire now."

_That _made Pierce smile. "Then you came to just the right place." He turned his attention to the almost forgotten Emma. His robotic hand raised so he could brush it against her face, just below one of the bruises that remained from her scuffle with Jean. Emma did not flinch. "Emma, dear, you did a marvelous job. This will certainly secure your place among us."

"Thank you, Donald," the blonde answered, her eyes as cold as her voice. "I'm so thrilled that I have pleased you."

"You've done more than please us. You've saved us the trouble of having to kidnap two X-Men. And I'm sure Rogue will make taking the Grey girl that much easier. Won't you Rogue?"

"Of course."

"Emma," Selene interrupted, "whatever happened to your face? You look like hell."

"I got into a little fight at the mansion, Selene." She smiled, her teeth bared in an obvious threat. "But thank you for your commentary and concern."

"Anytime, darling."

"Ladies, please. We have a guest. And she needs to get settled in." Shaw turned to Betsy. "Psylocke?"

"What?"

"Be a dear and get Rogue an outfit."

"Outfit?" Rogue dared to probe.

Shaw smiled down at her. "But of course. If you are going to be one of us, you'll have to dress the part." He looked back at Betsy. "Take Emma with you. Both of them are in need of a wardrobe change. After that, bring them to our meeting room so we can get acquainted with the newest members of the Hellfire Club."

"Fine," Betsy snapped. She looked at the two X-Men. "Follow me."

The two did as they were told. However, Rogue could not help but look over her shoulder at the Inner Circle as she retreated. The way they watched her go…it unnerved her. Perhaps she was in over her head.

_You will be fine, Cherie. You got people—I'm watchin' over you._

Maybe having Remy LeBeau in her head wasn't as bad as she originally perceived.

XXXXX

Remy was bored.

He knew that he was doing an "infiltration" (which was just Charlie's way of saying they were doing a breaking and entering) but he was bored. He didn't even get to have any fun until after Roguey had been captured and tossed into the holding area. So until then, he could just work on organizing the information Rogue was feeding him telepathically so he could use it later.

She had done a very good job of locating a lot of the cameras hidden throughout the Hellfire mansion. It would make his job that much easier. Not to say it wouldn't be a hassle. He had broken into the Club's mansion once before and it was a real pain in the ass.

Not to mention they ruined his good shirt.

But then again, that proved to be a good thing. Because it gave him an excuse to harass Rogue with the washboard abs she seemed so very fond of. Despite the rough start, that day turned out to be very fun. He got to drive like a maniac with Rogue clinging to him, got to cling to Rogue when she drove like a raging maniac, and even left her wonderfully flustered when he questioned her on why she liked "motorcycles" so much.

And he ate chocolate that day.

Everything was better with chocolate.

Like Rogue for example. Not to say that she wasn't perfection just the way she was, but just imagine how much more perfect she would be if she was drizzled with chocolate. And, being the (semi) responsible young man that he was, Remy would just have to clean all that chocolate off her.

With his tongue.

It was the responsible thing to do.

_Dammit, Gambit! I can hear those thoughts!_

_ Oh, yeah. I forgot 'bout that. _He paused thoughtfully. _See somethin' you like?_

She growled at him. How she managed to growl at him mentally, he wasn't sure. But he was impressed.

His Rogue. How he loved her.

He really hoped that she loved him in return. He also hoped that perhaps she was too busy on blowing her cover to notice the direction his thoughts had taken him. Because clearly, his little confession had frightened her.

But he did love her.

It was the truth. And when he realized it, he wanted to shout it to the heavens. He wanted to scoop her up into his arms and run through the mansion and yell it so all of his teammates could hear it. He was sure that everyone already knew but he wanted to tell them anyway because he was just so happy about it.

He loved her. He, Remy Etienne LeBeau loved Rogue Unknownlastname. He loved her, he loved her, he loved her, he loved her.

Then, after he was done telling everyone how much he loved her, he would pull Rogue into his arms and whisper it to her over and over until she understood just how much he loved her. And with every proclamation of love, he would kiss a different part of her face. Her brow, her nose, her chin, her perfect, pouty lips.

Then when he was done with the cutesy stuff, he would do what he mentioned earlier with the chocolate.

That is unless Wolvie decided to interrupt them for a third time.

**The man needed a hobby. Like learning how to play guitar. That'll take a while and it's productive and it will eventually lead to female adoration for his musician/artist ways which he has because he's already got this whole amnesia angst thing going on.

His first record will be off the charts.**

With Wolvie out the way, Remy could drizzle as much chocolate on Rogue as he wanted. Maybe she would even drizzle some on him.

Remy shook his head. He really needed to concentrate.

He couldn't hear all of her thoughts except the ones she sent him specifically. But he had a general feeling of what she was thinking and she was feeling very uncomfortable at the moment. Not that he blamed her.

The Inner Circle were a creepy bunch. Especially that Shaw character. Rogue had made Remy laugh out loud when she likened him to a monkey with a receding hairline.

That was his Roguey. Such a delight.

_You think I'm a delight?_

_ Among other things. _

If Rogue was able to mentally growl, then it was no surprise when Remy heard her mentally smile too.

But then, all of the sudden, their mental connection seemed to be severed. Remy frowned. One minute, her presence was very much there is his mind. But the next, he felt like an iron curtain had been drawn and he was left alone with only his thoughts.

_Cheire? Roguey? River Rat? Mon Coeur?_

There was silence.

Remy knew he should not jump the gun and run into the Club, cards blazing. But Rogue had gone missing and he didn't like that. He wanted her back. Things were just starting to get really fun. If someone took her away from him now….

Remy would blow them up.

But he knew for the sake of the mission and the "infiltration", he had to wait. And he did. He waited for what felt like an eternity. Just as he was about to storm the building, the curtain was drawn back up and he could feel Rogue's presence in his mind once more.

_Rogue, where did you go? Are you okay? Who hurt you? I'll blow them up._

_ Geez, Cajun. Chill out. I just put up a wall for minute._

_ Why?_

_ I was changing clothes and didn't want you gettin' a peek._

_ Aww. You never let Remy have any….wait. Why were you changin' clothes?_

_ Err…I'll tell you later._

_ Promise?_

_ Only if you promise to explain when and why you had to wear a fancy suit._

_ Uh…Rogue, we really need to concentrate on the plan. We ain't got time for this._

He was sure she smiled.

He "listened" as the pretty purpled haired one named Betsy led them into a conference room where Shaw, Pierce, and Selene were already seated. Emma sat across from Rogue, now wearing a revealing white corset with a matching pair of pants. If that was what Emma was wearing, Remy could only imagine what Rogue was wearing.

It was just a shame there probably would be no knee high socks incorporated.

He listened in on the meeting where the Inner Circle welcomed Rogue and Emma before explaining their master plan that involved gaining power through blah, blah, blah, blah.

If you've heard one villainous rant, you've heard them all.

And then, just like planned, their cover was blown.

Emma was equipped with a hidden earpiece. At some point during the meeting, it would "malfunction." There would be feedback. It would be loud enough to not only cause Emma visible pain, but also so everyone in the room would be able to hear it.

It happened just as planned.

Emma wailed in pain and yanked the earpiece out. The room grew silent. Then there were loud voices. Angry voices. Accusations were thrown and Emma revealed in a moment of "desperation" that Rogue was a spy too. More yelling. More accusations. Some Hellfire henchman swarmed the room, taking hold of the "struggling" X-Men.

Remy sighed happily.

He loved it when a plan came together.

XXXXX

It all was going down without a hitch.

Henchman filled the room and took hold of the two women while Shaw barked orders to have them thrown in with the other prisoners. Rogue and Emma kicked and screamed and clawed like they actually wanted to get away. But those little minions had a good hold on them and they weren't getting anywhere. If Rogue really wanted to, she could have gotten away.

But that wasn't in the plan. So she and Emma were dragged to the door. Just like they were supposed to be.

"Wait!"

The whole room froze at Shaw—aka Monkey Face's—order. He crossed to room to stand before Rogue, who was being held by two men. He leaned down so that he could stare into her face.

"You thought you could fool us, didn't you, X-Man?"

"Bite me," she hissed with sincerity.

He lifted his hand to pat her cheek. Rogue, doing what seemed natural, spat directly in his eye. Shaw howled with anger, lifting his hand. Rogue braced herself to be stuck but he something seemed to come over to him.

Then he smiled.

And that was not in the plan.

"Take Emma to the holding area with the others. But this one?" He gestured at Rogue. "Take her to Room 101. And Betsy, you guard it. Make sure that she doesn't escape."

Shaw grinned and Rogue's heart sank. That _definitely_ wasn't in the plan.

"I have something special in store for the rogue X-Man."

**XXXXX**

****A direct quote from the fabulous BlueFox. Thank you. That literally made me laugh out loud when I read that today. I just had to insert that into this fic. I hope you don't mind.**

**Anyway, I'll try to update again soon. Until then, please keep reviewing. Much love.**

**-M.A.**


	17. The Rescue

**Wow. You guys are so amazing. **

**Maniac Production: the idea came to me after I wrote the oneshot Teetering. People seemed quite fond of the line "I would like to further discuss these enthralling little socks". I decided to do a story centered around Remy's obsession with the socks. But I wanted more than just romance. So I sat back and thought a a villain. I decided on the Hellfire Club because they are so rarely used. I also knew that I wanted to incorporate Emma Frost at one point or another. From there, the story wrote itself. Thank you, by the way, for the wonderful review. **

**ALLREMS: I hope I answer some of your questions in this chapter = )**

**Everyone else, you're so fantastic. So please enjoy this last chapter. I worked extra hard on it. And for the record, I was listening to music while typing this up. Just as I was typing the big "fight scene" that pops up in the latter part of this chapter, the song "Medicine" by Grace Potter and the Nocturnals came on. They are a fabulous group and she's an amazing singer. Her music put me in the right mood while writing that scene. So I highly suggest checking out that song and the one "Paris (Oh La La)". They are so underrated. **

**XXXXX**

In her sophomore year of high school, Rogue had to read _1984_. It was an allegorical book about communism. In the book, the main character Winston tries to rebel against "Big Brother". It was all going fine and dandy until Big Brother caught him. Winston was tortured until his spirit and mind were broken. The torture included the very real threat of having starving rats eat his face off. There was no happy ending in _1984_.

And all of the horrible things that happened to Winston occurred in Room 101.

So Rogue was kind of freaking out.

The room she had been tossed in had absolutely nothing in it except for what looked like an operating table, which she was strapped to by her wrists and ankles. Beside the table was a little stand, with wicked looking operating tools on it. There were no windows. No signs of life. The lighting was limited. It was just her and that terrifying operating table.

Remy LeBeau needed to hurry his ass up.

_I'm comin', I'm comin'. Keep your shirt on. Actually…take your shirt off. That will get me there much faster._

_ Gambit, get me the hell outta here!_

_ Calm down, Rogue. I'm comin'. I swear, nothin' will happen to you. I won' let them hurt you. _

_ Thank you._

_ Do not mention it, Cherie. Of course, this does cause a little hiccup in our plan. _

_ Yeah…_

_ Now we don' know where the Frosty the Ice Bitch or the other prisoners are bein' held. _

_ Did you tell the others yet?_

_ Yup, they know. So they're holdin' off on their attack 'til after I get to you. Hopefully their appearance will be a good 'nough distraction. It might give us time to get to Frosty and the others. Of course, I gotta get to you first. _

_ Please hurry. This room is really freakin' me out. _

_ You need to take your mind off of it. Jus' think of somethin' nice. Like that song. Raindrops on roses, whiskers on kittens, and Remy LeBeau completely naked in your bed._

_ I don' recall the part 'bout you naked bein' in the original song._

_ It's not. But I put that in there. Jus' for you._

Rogue gave him a mental eye roll as she relaxed her muscles. Remy was right—

_Course I'm right._

—there was no point in panicking. He would be there soon and save her from the horrors of Room 101.

Remy LeBeau, her knight in shining armor.

Rogue snorted at the thought. While thinking of Remy as a gallant knight was an odd thought, she had no problem fathoming the idea of him rescuing her. She also believed him when he said that he wouldn't let anything bad happen to her. It was easy to imagine the Cajun tearing through whoever was in his way to get to her.

And god forbid that someone _did_ do harm to her.

She remembered the sight of Remy about to crush some dude's windpipe when he thought someone had taken her. The imagine of him with glowing eyes and a murderous look that would make Wolverine proud would forever be ingrained in her mind. And to think. He looked about ready to blow some poor sap up just for her.

That was kind of sweet of him.

He was going to save her and everything would be just fine.

All she had to do was wait.

And wait.

Geez, what was taking him so long? The mansion wasn't _that _big.

_ Look, you try crawlin' through the air ducts inconspicuously. It ain't easy._

Rogue turned her head to look at her bonds. It's like they were made of adimantium or something because there was no way she was getting out. Which sucked. She felt vulnerable. And even though Remy had warned her not to panic, her mind couldn't help but wonder what they had in store for her.

She noted that there were no cameras in this room, a very bad sign.

No, no, no, no. She needed to think of something else. Anything else. Like…Remy. Shirtless.

Oh. Bad idea. Because while that did ease her worry, it didn't make her body less calm. It was just acting up in a different way. That funny way that it only acted when Remy LeBeau was around.

_I make your body act funny? _he asked, sounding surprised.

Rouge blushed. _No._

_ What kind of funny?_

_ Dammit, Gambit! Get me outta here!_

_ Fine, fine, fine, fine. I'm almost there. But what kind of funny? Like, a tingly, nice funny?_

_ No. A sick to my stomach funny._

_ Mmm…do you mind if I test this out when I get there?_

_ YES!_

His laughter rang in her head just as there was thumping above her head. Rogue looked up in time to see a perfect circle burned into the ceiling tile. It glowed before burning away into nothingness. Moments later, Remy LeBeau dropped through the hole and landed gracefully on the floor beside the table Rogue was bound too.

"_Bonjour_, Roguey."

His eyes all but popped out of his head when he got a good look at her new outfit, which consisted of a black leather vest that pushed certain assets of hers together and up in a way she knew Remy would appreciate. She was just thankful they didn't stick her in some tiny skirt, but instead black leather pants that were probably cutting off the circulation to her legs, they were so tight. The Hellfire Club were also kind enough to give her a pair of black gloves.

She knew the moment that Betsy handed her this stupid Catwoman** outfit that she would have to face Remy at some point. She knew that he would be downright giddy to see her in such a get up. But she hadn't counted on being tied to a table.

It must be a dream come true for him.

The freak.

"_Mon Dieu_," he whispered.

"Remy…." she said warningly.

"All we're missin' is some chocolate syrup." He sounded incredibly shocked. Not even pleasantly shocked. Like he couldn't believe his eyes. Or his luck.

"Remy."

He walked to where her feet were bound. He touched the restraints with his index finger. They sizzled, popped, and burned away. Sighing contentedly, Rogue stretched her legs. She watched as Remy walked down to where here writs were bound. He stared at her.

Then he pouted.

"Do I gotta let you go?"

"REMY!"

"Fine." He sighed, freeing her wrists.

The moment Rogue was free, she jumped off the table and began massaging her sore wrists. She took a deep breath before looking back at her rescuer. He smiled, his eyes dancing naughtily.

"You look good in black leather, Roguey. I'm especially enjoyin' the top."

"Remy LeBeau, I swear to god that—"

"You look so incredibly sexy," he interrupted, taking a step toward her.

Rouge's words died on her lips when he looked at her like that. "Um…."

"Are you still confused?"

"Yes…."

"That's a shame."

Once again, Rogue found her back pressed against a wall and Remy LeBeau invading her personal space. But, just as he did in the closet, he did not touch her. But he was very close. So close that she could smell him and feel the heat that always emanated from his body. Her gaze was drawn to his eyes and mouth. His eyes, which were looking at her like she was an emerald again.

His lips, which probably tasted like chocolate.

Rouge wondered what her hang up was again. Because lips…and chocolate…and muscles…

Maybe she was silly. Maybe she should just dive in and go for it. Maybe she should grab his face and kiss him until one of both of them passed out from lack of oxygen.

Maybe those stupid muscles and chocolate flavored lips were clouding her judgment.

"You know, I really hate to interrupt this _beautiful _moment but I think we have bigger things to deal with other than the obvious sexual tension crackling between you two."

Rogue and Remy turned toward the door. Betsy leaned heavily against the doorframe, her violet eyes glowing. Remy pushed himself away from Rogue, offering the purpled haired woman his most charming smile, all while taking a fighting stance.

"Now, _Cherie_, I'm sure we can talk this out."

Without a word, she lifted her right hand. From her fist appeared a katana blade made of, what looked like pure psi-energy. She simply looked at Remy, her eyebrow raised in an obvious challenge. He shrugged.

"Pretty words ain't gonna work on a smart _fille_ like you, _non_?"

She shook her head. Remy pulled out his bo-staff.

"Then let's have at it, _Cherie_."

She did not need another opening. Betsy charged Remy in an instant, bring her psi-blade down in a manner that was to slice him in half. He lifted his staff defensively. Both X-Men watched as her blade sliced through it like paper. Remy blinked in surprise, staring at his staff that was now in two different pieces. He spared Betsy a look.

She winked.

Then she attacked.

Rogue was trained in hand-to-hand combat. She was one of the best on her team. Until Remy LeBeau arrived and left everyone in the dust.

However.

She was _so _not getting involved in that fight.

She watched as Remy and Betsy attacked each other with the skill and precision that she most definitely did not have. Hell, it looked like Remy was having a bit of trouble evading Betsy and her wicked telepathic blade. She came so close to actually cutting him that one lock his hair was cut off, floating gently to the ground.

Remy, the ego maniac that he was, did not like that.

So they fought only harder.

Rogue would be there to offer him moral support. And, if ever an opportunity arose, she would drain Betsy so fast her head would spin. But the woman was bouncing off of walls—literally bouncing off of them—and lunging at Remy like her life depended on it.

Which it kinda did, but whatever.

But even though she may have had the upper hand, Remy was giving her a real run for her money. Whenever he tossed a card at her, she managed to deflect the hit with her psi-blade. But one time, Remy got one through. It hit her square in the chest, sending her flying into the operating table. She very nearly slammed into Rogue, who dove out the way.

Remy took the opportunity to jump on top of Betsy. It looked like he put his full weight on her as he pinned her hands above her head.

"Now, _chere_, why don' you jus' calm down and let Remy 'splain what he was doin' in here."

To which Betsy replied with by kicking Remy in the head.

Literally. She was able to bend her leg so far back that even with him sitting on top of her, she was able to kick him in the back of the head. Which made the Cajun swear colorfully in French. It all Betsy needed.

"Whoa," Rogue whispered in shock, "she is flexible."

The Goth then ducked in time to avoid Remy LeBeau, whose body was tossed across the room to where she was hiding. He hit the wall violently before dropping to the ground. Rogue narrowly avoided being crushed by him.

"_Merde_," he grunted. When it took him more than a couple of seconds to get back to his feet, Rogue frowned and crawled over to his side. She gingerly touched his face. Blood trickled down from his temple. It wasn't a bad cut but it frightened her. Remy was supposed to be invincible.

"Rems? Are you okay?"

He groaned loudly before opening his eyes. He mustered a tired version of his typical smirk. "I knew you cared, Roguey. Also, watch your head."

Rogue had about two seconds to react before Betsy finished them both. So she did the only thing that came to mind. She dug down into her psyche and focused on Emma Frost. What it was like absorbing her. What her powers felt like. What it felt like to be a diamond. How to channel those powers.

And Rogue willed herself to become the living, organic diamond. She took hold of Betsy's wrist when it was only a hair away from her face. And she squeezed. Tight enough to make the woman scream but not so hard to do any harm beyond some serious bruising. The psi-katana vanished.

Rogue got to her feet, her hold on Betsy not softening in the least. As she rose, the purpled haired woman dropped to her knees. Rogue lifted her free hand to her mouth, yanking off the black glove with her teeth.

"Now listen to me." She held her hand so it was only a few inches away from Betsy's face. "You are gonna let me and Gambit outta here. We don' wanna hurt you."

"Coulda…fooled me…" the telepath growled between grit teeth.

"We aren't the bad guys here. Me and him are actually here to help y'all. There's a whole team of us. We're gonna stop the Hellfire Club. We're gonna get rid of all the information they have on other mutants and we're gonna free the ones they have locked up here."

"Wait. What did you say?"

"That we're gonna free the mutants they have imprisoned here."

"My brother is one of them," Betsy said, her eyes filling with tears. "You're going to get him out?"

"Yes."

"If you promise to not break my wrist, I will help you."

Rogue looked skeptical.

"Please," Betsy added, her voice cracking. "My brother…Jamie…they're forcing me to work with them in exchange for his safety. I won't have a reason to fight you if he's free too. Please. I'll help you. I swear."

Her wrist was released and Rogue took a step back, returning to her normal form. Betsy pulled her wrist to her chest, nursing it with a pretty pout before finally getting to her feet. She watched as Remy appeared at Rogue's side.

"I hope you don't take it personal," the telepath apologized, her eyes flickering between the two, "but nothing in this place makes much sense. And they have my brother. I'll do anything to get him back."

"We understand."

"We're jus' glad to have you wit' us," Remy added, smiling a tiny smile. "We need a woman like you. You kick some real ass, _chere_."

"Not too bad yourself, handsome." She winked, then took note of the murderous look on Rogue's face. "Oh, right. I forgot. He's taken. Sorry."

Remy threw his head back and laughed. "Aw, Rouge, jealously looks good on you."

"Shut up. I'm not jealous."

"Are…you two together?"

"NO!"

"It's complicated," Remy said at the same time. Betsy just frowned, looking between the two. Remy wrapped his arm around Rogue's shoulders, who just shrugged it off and pushed him away.

"Uh huh. I see…."

Before the examination of Remy and Rogue's relationship could continue, an explosion in the distance returned everyone's attention to the task at hand.

"That would the X-Men," Rogue explained.

"What can I do?"

"How 'bout you point the two of us in the direction of where they're keepin' those mutants prisoners."

"I could go with you."

"No. The X-Men are gonna have a helluva time gettin' through to Club to that database. They need you more. You can even point them in the right direction."

"But my brother…"

"Don' worry, _chere_, we'll make sure he gets back to you safe and sound."

"But right now, Betsy, the X-Men need you. So please just point us in the direction of the prisoners."

For a very long moment, she did not look like she would concede to what they were asking. But finally, she sighed.

"It's not too far from here," she answered at last. "We're currently on one of the lower levels. All you have to do is go down a flight of stairs. From there, it's a straight shot to where they're keeping the others. I'll go help your X-Men. But please, bring me my brother."

"We will."

Betsy spared them one last glance before she ran down the halls, already brandishing her psi-katana.

XXXXX

Well, Remy was incredibly sore following his little tussle with Miss Betsy. He hoped that maybe, if he pouted, begged, and used his puppy dog eyes, he could convince Rogue to give him a full body massage. With oils. And chocolate. And sex. Sex, because it would be the natural progression from an oily, chocolaty full body massage.

Then, after they were done with the massage and sex, they could go take a shower because obviously, they'd be dirty. And while they were in the shower, they could have more sex.

Then when they were done showering/sexing, they should eat. Because chances are, they would be quite hungry. But after they were eating, they could have more sex. Or they could kill two birds with one stone and eat food off of each other. While having sex.

He wasn't quite sure how that last one would work, but Remy LeBeau was willing to try just about anything.

But first they had to finish this stupid breaking and entering. Oh, and Rogue had to actually want him to touch her but whatever.

Details.

Currently, he and his Roguey were racing down a flight of stairs to get to the prisoners. How she was able to run in those leather pants, he didn't know. But he wasn't complaining. Far from it actually. Maybe he could convince her to keep it after this was all said and done….

"Remy."

"_Oui_, _Cherie_?"

"You do realize that despite the fact that I'm not actively tryin' to maintain a telepathic link with you, I can still vaguely hear your thoughts, right?"

"Well, I know that now."

"Is sex the only thing you think about?"

"No. Sometime I think 'bout stealin' stuff. But mostly I think of sex. Wit' you."

"You flatter a girl," she drawled.

He laughed. Then his ear piece crackled to life.

"'Lo?"

"Gambit? Gambit, are you there?" One-Eye asked, his breathing heavily into Remy's ear. In the background, he heard screaming, crashes, and explosions.

It sounded like they were having all the fun.

"_Oui, _I'm here. And I got Rogue. We're safe. We're sendin' over some help too. So if you see a ninja wit' purple hair, she's fightin' wit' you. Not against."

"Have you released the prisoners yet?"

"_Non_, but we're on our way."

"Do you need backup?"

"_Non_, One-Eye. We have this under control."

As he said this, he and Rogue reached the bottom of the stairs. They continued their race down the hall way.

Then they stopped short when they found Selene standing there, waiting for them.

Smiling.

And she was no longer wearing her black gloves.

"Actually," Remy said so Scott could hear him, "we might be needin' that backup after all."

"Roger that. Wolverine is on his way."

Remy rolled his eyes. _Of course _Wolvie was the one they would send.

He retuned his attention to Selene. Her eyes, which once were a chocolate brown, now were blood red.

"You aren't getting any farther, little X-Men," she announced, her voice dripping with sickening sugar and honey. "Emma didn't tell you what my power are, did she?"

Neither X-Man answered. Selene laughed.

"I'm an absorber. I drain the energy out of you until there's nothing left but a pile of dust."

When she said that, all the fear and concern that had once filled Remy's heart faded. Instead, he smiled and relaxed.

And Rogue?

She cocked her hip with the kind of brash assurance that made him proud. She looked absolutely sexy when she lifted an eyebrow, looking unaffected by the threat Selene posed.

"You're an absorber?"

Slowly, haughtily, Rouge pulled off her black gloves and passed them to Remy. She sauntered over to the other absorber, smirking.

"Bitch, please."

**xxxxx**

****I'm not sure if I'm allowed to refrence Catwoman, a DC comic book character, in a Marvel story. It might open up some crazy alternate deminsion where Wolverine's claws are made of kryptonite and Jean Grey and Lois Lane have switched places. However, Catwoman and Black Cat might get into an awesome fight. Which would be beyond cool. I would pay to see that (I'm on team Black Cat) for the record.**

**Um...I was gonna say something else. But I forgot. So...until we meet again, I guess.**

**-M.A. **


	18. The Timing

**So for some reason, the website isn't showing any of the new reviews and I just cleaned out my email account. Because of this, I can't respond to all of the reviews. So I'm just going off of memory right now. **

**ElvenMuggle: I'm not offended in the least. I appreciate it actually.**

**Plum Tree: that was one of the funniest reviews I've ever read. Thank you for that. **

**BlueFox: also, hilarious review. **

**Everyone else, I'm so sorry if I freaked you out if I made you think the story was over in the last chapter. It's not. But...after this...there are only two chapters left = (. I can't believe it's almost over.**

**XXXXX**

This was so incredibly hot.

Remy was just sad he didn't have a video camera of some kind to record this awesome fight. He was glad that Rogue finally got to throw some punches. He knew he wanted to get in on the Emma Frost/Jean Grey fight. And the other day when the mansion was attacked, he may have been watching her back a _little _more than necessary. Which, for some reason, annoyed her.

Remy thought her agitation was silly.

He was just trying to protect her. If something bad happened to her, he didn't know what he would do.

But now he was confident that Rogue could handle Selene just fine. Besides. He'd have to be crazy to get in between those two. And not just because punches were being thrown faster than he could keep up with but because…well.

Two women. Fighting. In black leather.

Yeah, no. He was just going to happily sit this one out.

The good news was Rogue totally had the upper hand against Selene. The fight would have been long over if it weren't for the fact that Selene had enhanced agility. She managed to narrowly slip by Rogue's strikes. Still, the Goth wasn't holding back and hitting hard. She had yet to absorb Selene so Remy assumed that she was waiting until she had her opponent pinned.

That was fine with him, too.

But then something happened that made his smile falter just slightly. Rogue stumbled. Selene pounced and took hold of X-Man's shoulders. Remy could see her fingers digging into Rogue's skin, causing blood to well up just slightly. A silver aura surrounded both women and Selene's eyes burned red. When Rogue howled in pain, Remy was prepared to jump in. However, his reluctant paramour spun around and punched Selene in the jaw, forcing the woman to release her hold.

Remy slowly relaxed.

The fight raged on. And Selene was fighting a little harder. Actually causing Rogue some trouble. He was certain that it was due to her brief absorption. If it affected Rogue beyond the bloody welts on her arm, she did not let it show. She punched, kicked, and blocked as easily as she did during a Danger Room session.

Until Selene got hold of her again. And she drained her for longer than just a couple of seconds. By the time Rogue wiggled free, her skin was more ashen that usual. She sagged, rather than getting back to the fight as quickly as before.

Remy was through with his passive role. He was going to finish this fight, even if Rogue would be royally pissed with him. So he ran to Selene.

That's all he did.

He didn't even see it coming. One moment, her back was to him. Before Remy could blink, Selene had spun around and backhanded Remy. It wasn't just any backhand either. Remy had been backhanded a lot in his life (something he wasn't particularly happy about) and at the worst, it made him stumble backward a little.

But when the back of Selene's hand met his face, he was thrown across the room until he hit the opposite wall.

Again.

What was with all these women handing him his ass today?

Remy's head spun. He could hear a faint, strangled noise and then laughter. He couldn't see quite yet. His vision was too blurry for him to truly understand what was happening but he knew it was bad. He needed to get it together.

Rogue needed him.

He forced himself to sit up. Forced himself to stand. He willed his eyes to come into focus. And what he saw was Selene, her body glowing silver. Her hands wrapped around Rogue's throat. And his _Cherie _on her knees, vainly clawing at Selene's hands as she tried to free herself. But Remy could quite literally see the life fading from his eyes.

There might have been a time in his life where he was more frightened, but he honestly couldn't remember it. Because he was watching the love of his life, the only woman had the potential (but only _potential_) to help him get over his severe, paralyzing fear of marriage (maybe), the woman who made his heart tap dance and lungs constrict when she looked at him the woman who he would give up blowing things up for…he watching the life being drained from her gorgeous jade eyes.

Those eyes deserved to be full of life for as long as possible.

And hell, he had lived a pretty good life.

He had gone on quite a few heists that earned him the label of Prince of Thieves, had seduced more than his fair share of women, lived through the whole "Belladonna" incident, almost got married, been threatened by Wolverine and lived, and, most importantly, he got to steal a kiss from Rogue.

He always figured he would die young anyway.

XXXXX

She was dead.

Yup.

Dead, dead, dead, dead, dead, dead, dead, dead, dead.

Rogue could literally feel the life being drained out of her. So this is what it was like to be absorbed. She decided that it kind of sucked.

She tried to pry Selene's fingers from around her neck but she couldn't find the strength. At that point she could barely lift her hand.

She was _so _dead.

And she wouldn't even get a chance to kiss Remy LeBeau again. Or touch his washboard abs.

Aww…washboard abs….

Well, at least she would have a nice thought before she died. And the washboard abs were a _very _nice thought.

Speaking of Remy LeBeau and his outstanding, awe-inspiring stomach muscles, where the hell was he? She vaguely recalled him saying that he wouldn't let anything bad happen to her.

"SELENE!"

Oh, there he was.

Rogue was able to make out the blurred sight of Remy LeBeau. He stood directly behind Selene and he was on fire. Pink fire. After she thought about it for more than a second, she realized that he wasn't on fire. It was all the energy within twisting, crackling, and spilling over until he was surrounded with a pink aura.

Of energy. Rogue groaned.

Oh no. He wasn't going to do what she thought he was going to do, was he?

"You want energy, eh? Well, Remy got more energy than 'nough? Remy got an unlimited supply. Take me instead. But let her go. _Leave her alone_."

He was.

The iron hold around Rouge vanished and she crumpled to the floor. She wanted to stay there and just rest but then she heard Remy LeBeau's strangled scream. Rogue lifted her head. She had to.

And there was Selene, draining the life out of Remy LeBeau. The pink aura clashed with her silver one. He was lasting a lot longer than she had. But she knew he couldn't produce energy forever. The witch would drain him dry and then come back for her.

Honestly, and to her surprise, Rogue couldn't find herself caring about her safety.

Remy.

That fool was going to get himself killed for her.

And if he was dead, there who would be there to torment her or to call her _Cherie_ or make her body act funny or take her on motorcycle rides or talk about chocolate in inappropriate ways or tell her she was pretty or kiss her passionately or look at her intensely or protect her or debate about Emma Frost's boobs or play pool with or teach her to cheat at poker like he promised or to provoke Logan's ire or make her feel normal when no one else did or be utterly ridiculous and talk about love?

No one, that's who.

And if Remy LeBeau wasn't around to do any of those things listed in that run on sentence, well then…. Rogue's heart sank to her feet.

God dammit, she was in love with that stupid Cajun.

Now she had to save his sorry ass.

It was amazing. She felt so powered by this newfound love that she managed to force herself to get to her feet. And she crossed the room to where Remy was being killed. Selene didn't even see it coming. Rogue just came up behind the Black Queen, placed her naked hands on either side of the woman's face, and absorbed her.

_Remy….you have to stop feedin' her energy. I can't stop her if you're jus' powerin' her._

_ …okay, Roguey._

She waited until Remy had powered down before she but all her energy into draining Selene. It was an odd feeling as she drained the woman. She could feel the power she had taken from not only Remy, but herself. Rogue felt herself filling to her brim with energy, power, and Selene. The woman was dark and menacing.

Rogue couldn't wait to get her psyche out of her head.

And still, despite having the warped thoughts of Selene filling her head, Rogue could only think of one thing.

"Remy…." she gritted.

He was in the process of trying to pry Selene's hands off his face. But he opened his eyes so he could stare into Rogue's stressed eyes. "What?"

"Look…now don't get a big head over this—"

"LET GO OF ME, BITCH!" Selene interjected.

"—but I feel like I outta tell you that—"

"I'M GOING TO KILL YOU!"

"—I love you."

Remy's eyes bulged. "_Now_, Rogue? You want to tell me that _now_? _Right now_?"

"Yes!"

"_Cherie_, after this, we gonna havta work on your timin'."

She laughed, but it was marred by the sound of Selene swearing and wailing like a banshee. With one last colorful curse, the Black Queen crumpled to the floor, unconscious.

Rogue wobbled on her feet just for a moment, staring at the woman on the floor. Of all the things that should have crossed her mind, Rogue could only think of one thing. And of all things, it was a movie quote.

"Yippee-ki-yay, motherf—"

"Rogue!"

Remy LeBeau enveloped her into his arms in a bear hug. She would have hugged him back but she was feeling kind of light headed. She was grateful for Remy's arms around her; she doubted she would be able to stand on her own two feet much longer without his support. Her body had gone through too much at one time. A fight, being absorbed, almost dying, doing some absorbing herself, and confessing her love.

She might just faint.

Oh, but it was just getting good.

But she was having trouble finding an anchor. Something to keep her head and feet grounded. Even with Remy's arms wrapped around her, it was difficult to find her footing.

"Rogue…_cherie_…please don' faint jus' yet."

He kept one hand pressed to her lower back, the other between her shoulder blades. Her head sagged so he pulled her so she was pressed against his chest. Somewhere, in the back of her mind, she thought that with her leather vest and compromising positioning, Remy was probably getting one hell of a view of her breasts. But she couldn't find herself caring and it was only a distant thought.

But she could feel his hands on her. They were soft. Like the kiss of a butterfly against her skin. He was touching her face tenderly, his fingers just barely skimming her skin.

"Rogue, please."

Her eyes fluttered open. He was a lot closer than she originally thought. He was so close. As close as he was that day when the mansion was attacked and she fell on top of him. As close as he was right before he kissed her senseless.

When he saw that she had opened her eyes, Remy smiled. And not like she had ever seen him smile before. It was the most gentle, caring look anyone had ever bestowed upon her. To put it frankly, it was a look full of love.

Oh yeah. She had just admitted being in love with him.

He was probably just thrilled.

Smug bastard.

Still, he was her smug bastard. So she smiled right back him. She still couldn't feel her legs. But that didn't matter. Because she was being held by Remy LeBeau and they were in love.

With each other.

It was so weird. She had seen these moments in movies all the time. Right after the girl told the boy he loved her. Everything seemed to move in slow motion. A pretty song played in the background. Someone said something cheesy but really cute. There was kissing. Fade to black. Happily ever after.

Rogue, not being the "romcom" or romantic type, never believed that those moments existed. But then Remy LeBeau and his stupid face walked in the door. And she was experiencing one of those moments, albeit under very unusual circumstances.

Everything was moving in slow motion but that was because of her head about to explode.

She had the song _Pocket Full of Sunshine_ stuck in her head. It wasn't very romantic but it would have to suffice.

Time for the cheese.

_"Bonjour, Cherie," _Remy murmured, his lips brushing against her cheeks. It was a very nice feeling. Wonderful even. Heavenly almost.

"Hey, Swamp Rat."

"You love me?"

"Reluctantly so."

He laughed. "I'll take what I can get."

He slid his hand beneath her hair so that he could lift her head. He was going to kiss her. Just like it happened in those crappy movies. Just like he was supposed to. Just like she wanted him to.

"Jesus frickin' Christ, am I gonna havta muzzle you, LeBeau?"

Remy growled. Rogue sighed.

Logan was here. Which meant there wouldn't be any kissing. Not while he was around.

At this point, why even bother staying conscious?

As everything faded to black, Rogue wondered where the hell her happy ending was.

**XXXXX**

**Well, I should probably get to work on the next chapter. I hope you liked this one. If not...I'm really sorry. **


	19. The Only Way It Could End

**Wow. Over two hundred and thirty reviews. I cannot believe it. And I am so thankful. Okay. Let's get down to business (to defeat the Huns). Sorry. Mulan refrence. **

**Fire Makes Me Smile: no interuptions in this chapter. Promise. **

**BlueFox: I quoted Die Hard. Because Bruce Willis is a timeless bad ass. I don't know why I felt the need to stick that in there but I regret nothing. **

**Kinetically Charged: For a minute, when I read your review, I'm like why are you randomly telling me you're Canadian, Then I kept reading and I was like, "Oh. Hahaha."**

**TheBeginningsEnd: I'm not sure about a sequel. I've been tossing an idea around but no promises. **

**Zany: I was gonna say something Then I forgot. **

**Sharky237: challenge accepted! (if I miscounted...opps. But I think I've got 20 in there)**

**Everyone else: the reviews were so amazing and I wish I could address them all. But I want to hurry this chapter because I have updated in the past two days. Which I felt bad about. So one more chapter to go after this one...**

**XXXXX**

Rogue awoke with a pounding head. She always did following a post-absorption faint. But just because she was used to it did not mean it made dealing with it any easier. She moaned, stretching her legs.

Okay. Time to figure out where she was.

Let's think back on what happened before she fainted. There was…Wal-Mart. Something about Edward Cullen. Remy was there for some reason, which was weird. And Emma. Who was Emma? She couldn't remember but she knew that she didn't like Emma. And a club. Hellfire. Hellfire Club. More Remy. Remy's washboard abs. And there was a motorcycle. And chocolate. And more washboard abs. Remy staring at her socks like some sick freak. At some point she absorbed Emma. Jean broke the blonde's nose. Remy kissed her but she didn't get a chance to touch his washboard abs. He loved her…she loved him…Selene…_Pocket Full of Sunshine_….Logan…

Oh yeah. It was all coming back to her now. She passed out after absorbing Selene but before she could kiss Remy. Dammit. That was totally not cool.

Well, now that she had at least established what happened, she needed to figure out where, in the name of all things holy, where she was. The last place she remembered being was in Remy's arms. Which was a nice place to be but she wasn't there anymore.

So where the hell was she?

Rogue finally opened her eyes and found herself in complete and total darkness. Which wasn't helpful in the least. She sighed and stretched her limbs. She was pleased to discover that there was nothing that kept any of her appendages bound. In fact, she felt quite loose and comfortable. So she must be out of that ridiculous black leather cat suit.

Thank god. Now her legs could have blood pumping to them properly and her boobs weren't so squished together she could rest her chin on them. But if she had been unconscious then who in the sam hill changed her clothes?

Rogue moaned, not choosing to think about that too much. She just hoped it was Kitty or something. Because the thought of someone other than her pulling her out of that leather get up was…disturbing.

She didn't need to think about this kind of stuff. Not immediately after waking up from such a hard day. She needed to sleep and dream pleasant thoughts.

Despite knowing she needed to rest her mind, Rogue wondered where Remy was. If he was worried about her. If he was thinking about her. How he felt about her poorly timed proclamation of love.

Her stupid fainting spell just had to happen at the worst possible time.

She wanted to know how he felt. She needed to talk of him.

But first she needed sleep. She needed to sleep and dream happy thoughts. Thoughts like…all the new clothes she could wear now that she could control her powers, Hugh Jackman, chocolate, motorcycles, Remy LeBeau, Hugh Jackman shirtless, Remy LeBeau shirtless, Remy LeBeau's washboard abs….

There. Pleasant thoughts. Washboard abs filled thoughts. Sighing happily, Rogue pulled the covers up higher and turned on her other side.

And came face to face with a pair of glowing red eyes.

"Hi."

To which she responded by screaming and falling out of her bed in her scurry to get away.

XXXXX

"Scott…could I possibly talk to you for just a moment?"

He lifted his head. When Emma got a good look at his face, she flinched. He looked absolutely destroyed. She had heard through the grapevine that he and Jean had broken up at some point before or during the mission. There were already rumors that Emma had something to do with it but no one knew any real details. Not yet anyway.

But now Emma wanted a moment to talk to Scott.

He had avoided her like the plague after their kiss. When he found out about her treachery, he avoided all eye contact. But now she was an X-Man. She had proven that she no longer meant the X-Men no harm. Some of them, though not many, were even beginning to trust her.

She needed to talk to Scott though.

Oddly enough, when Logan and Remy got her out of the holding area, her thoughts were full of happiness that she would be seeing Scott soon. But before they could, they had to hightail it out of the Hellfire mansion. Then she was and Rogue were taken by Hank. Rogue because for some odd reason, she had passed out. Her because the Hellfire Club were not very gentle in regards to how the handled her.

Emma had received handling that was rougher than necessary. She didn't even have the ability to fight back because they put some hideous handcuffs that suppressed her powers. But she took her abuse, wondering when the hell her rescuers would be arriving.

But they did. And she was taken back to the mansion. Her injuries were tended to. And now she was here.

And she wanted to see Scott.

He was hunched over on his bed when she walked in the room. But when she called after him, he sat up straight.

"Emma." He raked a hand through his hair. "Hey. Um…yeah. What did you want?"

"I think we should talk."

For a moment, he hesitated. As if he were going to pretend that he didn't know what she was talking about. But Scott sighed. "Yeah. We should talk."

Emma wasn't sure where to begin. She had a million things zooming around her mind all at once. There were so many things she wanted to tell him. She wanted to apologize. She wanted to beg for his forgiveness. She wanted him to pull her into his arms and tell her it would all be okay. She wished she hadn't ruined his relationship but she wanted him all to herself.

The whole "being in touch with her feelings" thing was really becoming a pain in the ass.

"Scott…I don't know what to say or…even how I should begin." She wrung her hands. "I'm not particularly…good at this apology thing. I don't do it often. But I feel like I owe one to…well. I owe one to everyone." She nervously tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "But I wanted to take time to apologize to you specifically. Because of…well, yeah."

"Yeah…."

"I heard about what happened with Jean. I don't think words will ever truly convey how I will be eternally mournful for what I had done. I didn't mean to destroy your relationship." She paused thoughtfully. "Well, I didn't do it _consciously_."

Scott got to his feet. Emma's blue eyes, which were brandishing ugly bruises beneath it from her recent escapades, watched him stand. She never failed to be impressed at just how large he was. And as he got closer, her heart sped up. He always did that to her. She wasn't sure why but Emma couldn't say it was a bad feeling, per se.

"Look, Em—"

"No." She reached out to touch him. Then she stopped, realizing that wasn't necessarily prudent. "Let me finish. Please."

He closed his mouth.

"Scott, I'm so terribly sorry for stepping all over your relationship. That was wrong. So very wrong of me and it will be one of my biggest regrets during this whole…." She waved her hand airily. "Jaunt." She took in a deep breath. "But just because I do not like it does not mean I do not see how it could be advantageous for me. Because the thing is..."

Emma got as close to Scott as she could without actually touching him. He just stared down at her intently. Once again, she could see his eyes hidden beneath his ruby glasses. Once again, she wondered what color they were. She would give anything to see his face unmarred by his glasses.

"Scott, I like you. I like you very much. And if you throw me out your room and never speak to me ever again, I understand completely. But I want you to know that I like you in a way that I've never liked someone before. I've got a cold, cold heart and you're the only one I've met who has the ability to make me _feel_. And I like what I feel. The circumstances aren't the best and I'm not exactly a favorable person, but I would like very much to see what other emotions you can stir up within me."

Unable to stop herself, she gently pressed her hand over his heart. She felt it skip a beat.

"Maybe I can stir a few within you, too," she said softly.

"Emma…."

"I don't expect you to want me. Or even like me." She curled her fingers into his shirt. "But I want you to."

"Emma." He pressed his hand over hers. "I _do _like you. I don't know why. And I know that I shouldn't. You know how I've been avoiding you?"

"Yes."

"It wasn't because I was mad or because I wanted nothing to do with you. I will admit when I found out about the Hellfire Club, I was hurt. And angry. But not for the blatantly obvious reason. I was upset because I had come to care for you in a short period and I might lose you. I thought I had judged you wrong and the person I thought you were was a person I liked.

"I avoided you because I was guilty. I know you don't like Jean," he said, his gaze flickering down to her still bruised nose, "but she's a good woman. And she deserves better than what we…what I did to her."

Scott lifted his hand to brush it against Emma's face. She winced when his fingers came in contact with one of her more recent bruises. He touched the same spot against, only softer so not to hurt her. Emma felt her heart leap into her throat.

"Does it hurt very much?" he wanted to know.

"Only a little."

"Em," he whispered, his hand on her face still very gentle, "I avoided you because I was guilty but I couldn't find myself regretting that we kissed."

"Really?"

"Yes."

Her heart flew. Perhaps not all hope was lost. Maybe he did like her. Maybe she had a chance with the X-Men. And maybe she had a chance with Scott. She leaned into him.

"What does that mean?" she probed. "That…you're willing to give…me a chance? That you don't hate me?"

"I don't hate you, Emma." He laughed a little at the thought. "And I would love to explore a future with you."

Her heart might just explode with happiness.

"But I can't. I won't."

Nevermind.

"What? Why?"

"If I were to enter a relationship with you, do you realize how very screwed up the circumstances would be?"

"Scott…."

His fingers trailed down so that he was holding her chin between his thumb and index finger.

"Emma, I betrayed Jean and she's gone. The pain is still fresh. And I love her. I don't know if things will ever be okay or normal between us. Honestly, I don't know if I want them to be. Because the idea of you and I is something I would like to explore more."

"Then why…?"

"Because, even if Jean and I are through for good, I at least owe her the respect of not jumping the first woman who strikes my fancy. And if I were to be with you, I would still think of her. I wouldn't be completely loyal to you. Because I love her and I'm still aching. I don't know what I want to do or who I want but I do know that I can't hurt either one of you. You both deserve better."

It was ridiculous, the tears in her eyes. All her life, she had been labeled as the cold hearted white witch. And now this one man came along and not only did he unlock a plethora of emotions within her, but now he was making her _cry?_

Emma hadn't cried in _years_.

This totally sucked. It made her chest ache.

And now she was crying. She was not the kind of woman who was attractive while crying. She got red and splotchy and got the hiccups. Not at all attractive. And Emma Frost had spent a great deal of money on being attractive.

But she didn't care.

Because Scott wouldn't take her and her heart was aching and she wasn't sure when it would stop.

When Scott saw her tears, his grip on her chin tightened just slightly. Even with tears clouding her vision and the visors making it harder to see, she could see the sadness in his eye.

"Emma…don't…"

With his hand, he guided her face toward his. For one breathless moment, Emma thought that perhaps he would bless her lips with a kiss. But instead, he pressed a deliberate, lingering kiss to her cheek.

"It was the only way this could end," he whispered into her ear.

XXXXX

"Mother Mary, Joseph, and everythin' in between, are you _tryin' _to give me a heart attack LeBeau?"

Remy looked down at Rogue, who was still sprawled across the floor. He had nerve enough to look confused by her statement. He blinked down at her.

"_Non_, why would I do that? I like havin' you 'round. If you had a heart attack, then we wouldn' have any fun."

"Well we can't have much fun if you sneak into my bed in the middle of the night. I mean, who does that?"

Remy reached down and offered Rogue his hand. After a brief examination, she accepted it. He not so gently yanked her not only to her feet but also onto her bed. Whether by his design or a twist of fate (but probably his design) Rogue ended up all pressed against Remy in a very not platonic way. Chest to chest. Legs pressed together. Flat toned tummy to washboard abs.

She blushed.

But Remy seemed pleased by this. He wrapped his arms around her securely so that he could pull Rogue down with him. Together, they laid down. On her bed.

In the middle of the night.

With washboard abs so temptingly close.

Rogue whimpered. Washboard abs….

"First of all," he began conversationally, "there is a _lot _of fun to be had sneakin' into your bed. The fun can involve playin' poker. Or it could involve chocolate. 'Member what I said in the garage that day 'bout motorcycles?"

"Yes." Vividly.

"Well, we can have that sort of fun, too. Secondly, it ain't the middle of the night. It's only 'bout nine. You jus' been zonked out for a couple of hours. Finally, I believe the sparkly one from those vampire books Amara reads does things like this."

"Does that make it romantic?"

"Legions of teenage girls can't be wrong."

"Remy…."

His hold around her tightened. "Don' yell at me quite yet, Roguey. Can we jus' sit here and bask in the love flowin' 'tween us?"

Rogue blushed furiously. He was holding her so that her face was resting on his chest (and her hand on his spectacular washboard abs. And they felt _good_). She couldn't actually see his face. And in the limited lighting, Remy was only a shadowy figure with features she could vaguely make out. She was kind of glad he couldn't see her. But she wanted to see him. When he made the comment about "basking in the in the love" he didn't sound very smug.

Not too smug anyway.

She wondered how he was feeling.

"I don't love you," she denied.

"Yes, you do, Roguey."

"I do not."

"Denial is very attractive on you."

"I'm not in denial."

"You love me. You told me so. Twice. You realized it after I made a dramatic, romantic gesture for you. You said you loved me." He kissed the top of her head. "And you made me the happiest man on the face of the earth."

Because she was on his chest (which wasn't all that far away from his washboard abs, she couldn't help but notice), she could hear his heart beating. When he said that, she felt it all but leap out his chest. Which was funny, because hers had done the exact same thing at the exact same time.

Dammit, she was in love.

He knew it. She knew it. Logan probably knew it. The absolute worst part was that she was fine with being in love with Remy LeBeau. Because he loved her too. And he was willing to do reckless things that could get him killed just for her. And he would take her on motorcycle rides. And drizzle chocolate on places chocolate didn't belong.

Maybe he would let her drizzle some on his washboard abs….

Dammit. Wasn't she supposed to be thinking thoughts of a non-smutty nature? Thoughts of a non-washboard abs nature? She should have been thinking thought about love and sunshine and singing birds and rainbows.

That's what they did in the movies, though.

Only, if she thought about it for more than a second, she and Remy LeBeau would never have a cutesy love. Theirs would be full of swearing and chocolate and pushing each other's buttons and motorcycles and French terms of endearment and Logan interruptions and their own twisted style of loving. And washboard abs.

Hopefully there would be a _lot_ of washboard abs.

All in all, Rogue realized she had been blessed. Because even if her heart was pounding and her stomach twisting, she loved Remy and he loved her. It would probably be hard but it would be worth it. He was worth it. Even if he was a creepy stalker and would piss her off on a daily basis, he was worth.

Rouge hoped that despite her faults, he thought she was worth it too.

She could probably start by not denying her blaringly obvious feelings.

"Remy."

"_Oui, Cherie?"_

"I love you."

"_Je t'aime, Roguey._ I wish I was the kinda guy who was good at givin' you a grand speech 'bout how much I love you. I wish I could glamour you wit' words. "

He nudged her. Rogue looked up. His two ruby red eyes were boring down into hers so seriously, she knew that he loved her. It was still a thrilling look and it still frightened her but now she wanted to explore it to her heart's content.

"I'm not that kinda guy. But I promise I will be worth the trouble. And I promise that your days will be filled wit' not only steamy, screaming', animalistic, primal, passionate, headboard bangin', chocolate covered Cajun style lovin', but I will also let you know that you are my world."

He scrunched his face up thoughtfully.

"How was it you phrased it earlier? Oh yeah. Like you're my own personal emerald."

"I like that."

"I'm glad."

"Can we kiss now?"

She half expected him to have some smug comment but apparently Remy was through with being patient. No sooner than she had asked had he swooped down and pressed his mouth to hers fully. He didn't taste like chocolate this time but she was okay with that.

He crushed her to his body and took no time picking up where they had left off the night before. Which she was okay with. Because that meant that she could become personally acquainted with those washboard abs she had been thinking about nonstop. Yes. She took time getting to know each one as an individual before letting her hands roam all over his washboard abs and his chest and his shoulders. Remy seemed to like that because he kept making little sounds of approval. Which she was also more than okay with.

She liked touching washboard abs he liked having his washboard abs touched. This was something she could happily get behind.

And still, even when Remy was ravishing her mouth and neck and ears (oohhh, her ears), he made time to caress her face and tell her he loved her. Sometimes he said it in English and other times he said it in French. Sometimes she was so lost in a whirlwind of lust and love she couldn't even understand the words he was whispering so heatedly. But he said it.

And she said it back.

As their kiss progressed, Remy rolled so she was on her back. Rogue had intentions of telling him that, even though she was really enjoying the whole "I can touch" thing (especially those_ fabulous_ washboard abs of his), she didn't want things to progress too quickly. She had intended to say that.

But then she noticed something.

Remy wasn't wearing shoes. And neither was she. So when he rolled her over, she should have felt his feet brushing against hers. But there was a layer of something preventing actual skin to skin contact. Frowning, Rogue broke their kiss.

"Remy?"

"Yes, Roguey?"

"After I fainted, who changed my clothes?"

"Kitty did." He pouted. "But allow me to assure you that I volunteered for that job, but for some reason, they didn' let me."

"Was Kitty the one who put me in these knee high socks?"

Remy grinned, unabashed. "_Non_, I did that after I snuck in."

Groaning, she let her head drop against her pillow. Remy laughed at her obvious agitation. "What's the matter, _Cherie_?"

"I can't believe I love a sick, sock obsessed freak like you. How did you do it?"

"My Cajun charm and good looks. The washboard abs help too. I'm too good to resist. You had to love me. Face it, Roguey." His teeth flashed in a roguish smile. "It was the only way this could end."

**XXXXX**

**Man...now all that's left is the epilogue. **

**-M.A.**


	20. The Epilogue

**The moment has arrived. Bitter sweet, ain't it? **

** Ace-of-Cyberspace: you are awesome. End of story. **

** Sharky237: I DID IT! I can't believe I did it! I'm so proud. Thank you for the challenge. **

** Zany: There is a washboard abs thing going on. Sharky up there challenged me to fit twenty washboard abs references in one chapter. A challenge that apparently was also given to ElvenMuggle. **

** BlueFox: I have no clue what I'm doing next. Honestly. I'm lost. But always open to ideas. **

** Everyone: thank you for sticking with me for this whole story. It means so much. But I'm stuck. So if you have ideas for a new story for me or a challenge, I'm all ears. Message me. Post it in your review. Whatever. I can't promise anything for sure, but I will try. I'm open to anything and everything. So bring me your ideas.**

** Finally, in regards to Emma and Scott…I honestly couldn't pair him with either girl. It wouldn't be fair to Jean or Emma. I sincerely felt that him not picking either one was the right thing to do. Especially because it gives either relationship to work in the future. Like…waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay into the futre. **

** Enough about that. Final chapter is here. *tear drop***

**XXXXX**

When Rogue had taken control of Remy LeBeau's motorcycle that day two months earlier, she thought she had driven impressively fast. She thought that she had pushed the limit and there was no one upping her.

She was, in fact, quite wrong.

Rogue came to this conclusion as she hung on to Remy for dear life. There was nothing exhilarating about the ride. Nothing sexy. It was terrifying.

Clearly, Remy LeBeau had lost his mind.

Rogue had expected an enthusiastic reaction from him, to put it lightly. But this was a beast of a different color. This was pure insanity.

They had been dating ever since the Hellfire Club infiltration. Rogue's days were filled with short sleeve shirts, motorcycle rides, witty repartee and heated make out sessions with Remy LeBeau. The make out sessions were only that, though. She was waiting before she progressed their relationship to the "chocolate syrup" phase.

He didn't mind. They took time with their relationship. Revealed bits and pieces of themselves to each other to build up the trust between them. Rogue even managed to convince Remy to tell her why he came back to Bayville in the first place. That unfortunately led to swear words being spouted viscously at Rogue's end before she finally threw a motorcycle helmet at his head and stormed off in the opposite direction.

"How do you not tell me that you almost got married? _Married!"_

"Roguey—"

"Don't call me, Roguey!"

"_Cherie—_"

"Don't call me that either! And don't even try to use that '_mon Coeur_' crap with me either!"

"But Rogue—" His sentence was cut off when she threw the second helmet at him. Remy managed to duck, but not without receiving a glancing blow to the head. "Rogue—"

"MARRIED!"

"Almost!"

That was not a good day for either southerner.

The storm passed with quite a bit of begging on Remy's part. Other than the brief spat, the two had lived in twisted, dysfunctional, romantic bliss since then. And still, it took Rogue and Remy quite some time before she was comfortable enough to give every bit of herself to Remy.

She wasn't sure how she knew. Just one day, she looked up into his absurdly handsome and continuously smug face and just knew. The final vestiges of doubt that remained in her mind faded away into nothingness. So what if he had almost gotten married to some psycho blonde? He ran away and came straight for her. He was hers now.

He belonged to her.

She belonged to him.

It really was as simple as that.

So there was no reason to not be with each other in the "chocolate syrup" way.

Rogue wasn't quite sure how to tell Remy the news she was certain he would be thrilled about. She had imagined doing so casually. She had imagined an elaborate, romantic proclamation. She half considered not even telling him and just letting him figure it out the next time he snuck in her room past curfew. He was sure to _love _that one.

Rogue hadn't done any of those things though. In fact, it just happened.

He was holding her face in his big, thieving hands and kissing her like she was the most beautiful creature on the face of the earth. Kissing her like she was too delicate to handle any more harshly. Kissing her so that her toes curled and her heart almost pounded right out her chest.

Two months in and he never failed to make her body act funny.

So after he was done peppering little kisses all along her face, she looked up into his red and black eyes and simply said "I'm ready." It looked like at first he didn't understand what she meant. Then understanding registered across his face. He smiled softly.

"Oh, _Cherie_, you never fail to say the words to make this thief's heart sing."

Then he pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

Immediately following this tender display, Remy LeBeau picked Rogue up and tossed her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Then, without even so much as saying one word, he ran through the mansion, down the stairs, and right into the garage. Before Rogue could find her bearings, she was fitted with a helmet. Once again, she was picked up and placed on the back of a motorcycle.

He didn't even give her a heads up. A warning. One minute, she was standing in his bedroom. The next, a motorcycle was vibrating the life beneath her. Remy just took off. Rogue hung on. Like her life depended on it.

Which it _totally _did.

She couldn't see where she was being taken. He was going too fast to even make out the blurs of the cars they zoomed past. She wasn't even sure _why _she was being taken. She thought he would kiss her. Hug her. Whoop and jump up and down with glee. Break out into an elaborate dance number with a marching band playing _Can't Take My Eyes Off Of You _(see also: Heath Ledger in _10 Things I Hate About You_). Maybe do a few cartwheels and set off a few fireworks.

But no. He picked her up and tossed her onto his motorcycle and drove off like a madman.

By the time the bike had stopped, Rogue's head was spinning rapidly. Before her vision could clear up, her helmet was yanked off, leaving her hair a disarrayed mess. She was then lifted bridal style off the bike and carried away. She briefly managed to get a look at a bright blue _Wal-Mart_ sign. Seriously?

She had just proclaimed she was ready to _sleep _with him and he takes her to _Wal-bloody-Mart_?

It was official. Remy LeBeau _was_ insane. This was her thought as he dumped her into an uncomfortable (and probably dirty) shopping cart and ran to the food section.

"Remy?" she asked, pushing her hair from her eyes. Her legs dangled uncomfortably over the side of the cart, which she was far too large to sit in. She must have looked ridiculous.

Her Cajun paramour looked down at her. His eyes were as wide as they were wild. She gasped a little at the sight of him. He had an expression that was an odd mix of love, lust and crazy.

Pure, unadulterated crazy.

"Remy, what are we doin' here?"

He pushed the cart down the candy isle. "Stockin' up."

"For what?"

He stopped long enough to look down at her. The look in those loving, lustful, crazy eyes was so…well, loving, lustful, and crazy, it made Rogue's body starting acting funny all over again.

"Tonight," he said, before turning to the shelves of candy. He considered it briefly before he reached up and grabbed an armful of Hershey Kisses. He then picked up a variety pack of fun sized chocolate bars too. The then dumped all the candy on top of Rogue and continued down to the ice cream section.

She blushed as she understanding slowly dawned on her. "Tonight?"

Without answering, Remy reached inside the freezer and pulled out a pint of chocolate ice cream. He considered it briefly, nodded to himself, then dropped it on top of Rogue.

"Tonight," he said, continuing to push the cart filled with treats and Rogue. He pushed her through _Wal-Mart_, picking up everything from brownie mix to chocolate chip cookies. But when Remy LeBeau picked up not one, but _five _bottles of chocolate syrup, Rogue knew.

She was in big trouble.

"Tonight," she squeaked. She watched as he left the food section.

He nodded just once. "Yes. Tonight." Then Remy pursed his lips thoughtfully. "And maybe the next day…or five."

She gulped.

Smirking just slightly, Remy turned the cart abruptly down the personal hygiene section. She frowned, taken aback by the odd turn the already weird day had taken.

"What are we doin' down here?" she asked nervously.

He didn't appear to hear her, for his eyes were too busy scanning the shelves for…whatever he was looking for. It was while her boyfriend was preoccupied doing whatever it was his incomprehensible mind was up to, that Rogue noticed someone standing off to her side. She turned fully, her eyes bulging.

"Edward Cullen guy?"

Sure enough, it was him. Wearing the exact same shirt she saw him in months earlier. With the same shampoo in hand. Maybe it was just a weird coincidence.

But she didn't think so.

When she abruptly called out to him, he turned to look at her with a sneer.

"I'm team Jacob," was all he said before turning to leave.

"Um…"

"All done," Remy announced, returning Rogue's attention to him. He dropped toothpaste into the cart before heading in the direction of the clothing.

"…what's that for?"

"I'm all outta toothpaste."

"Oh." She paused when he took her down the sock isle. "Are you all outta socks too?"

"_Non_."

He picked up a single pair of red knee high socks and dropped them into Rogue's lap. She stared at them, slightly frightened. Mostly excited and humming with anticipation. She ran her fingers along the cotton socks before looking back up at her boyfriend.

He just grinned at her. Predatorily. And affectionately.

But mostly like a man full of want and lust.

And love. Love was in there too.

"Tonight, _Cherie_, we are finally gonna finish that discussion 'bout those enthrallin' little socks of yours."

Rogue gulped. Her heart fluttered. She felt like it was going to be a very, very long discussion.

Not that she was complaining.

**XXXXX**

** I hope you liked it. I slaved for the longest time trying to figure out what Remy's last line would be. I'm happy with it. This was a pure fluff chapter. Fluffy, fluffy, fluff. Something for my amusement. And hopefully yours. **

** So until we meet again….**

**-M.A.**


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